


Drabbles, Extras, and Side Stories

by PencilofAwesomeness



Series: How to Raise Your Dragon Slayers [2]
Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: (mild) panic attacks, Acnologia and Gajeel curse a lot, Angst, E.N.D.!Natsu, END Natsu, Explicit Language, Family Bonding, Family Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, HTRYDS verse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Papalogia AU, Past Injury, characters added as I go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:54:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 28,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26720971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PencilofAwesomeness/pseuds/PencilofAwesomeness
Summary: Extra scenes, side stories, and whatever else that doesn't fit squarely into an arc from theHow to Raise Your Dragon Slayersuniverse. Anything from character musings to fluff moments to important build up scenes.
Relationships: Acnologia & Dragon Slayers, Acnologia & Gildarts, Bickslow & Laxus Dreyar, Dragon Slayers - Relationship, Laxus Dreyar & Acnologia, Natsu Dragneel & Lisanna Strauss, Wendy Marvell & Gajeel Redfox, Wendy Marvell & Mystogan
Series: How to Raise Your Dragon Slayers [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1902976
Comments: 116
Kudos: 140





	1. Table of Contents / Timeline

**Author's Note:**

> I have arcs planned, but because 1) not every idea I have fits into the flow of chapters and 2) I sometimes come up with ideas too late, I have made this baby right here. I will try to provide context and dates for each fic, so it's clear where it fits in the timeline.
> 
> Unless noted otherwise, all events are canon to the universe. 
> 
> Requests will absolutely be considered, but no promises just because I'm trying to keep things consistent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have you ever seen a graphic/layout designer write a series? No? You have now. 
> 
> As I foresee this series getting a little big and hard to remember, and this drabble series—existing between arcs and chapter—will be especially hard to keep up with, I've decided to organize! Yay! *confetti cannons erupt*
> 
> If you're the type who just wants to read about certain characters or pairings, this is cherry picking friendly. If you're the type who likes to have a timeline (like myself), this is for you. Or, if you ever wanted to go back and re-read something but you couldn't find it? This is the right place. 
> 
> There is no story here, so feel free to skip ahead to get to those juicy drabbles and scenes >>>
> 
> NOTE: Yes, I start at Chapter 2, because AO3 says this is Chapter 1 and I like numbers to match
> 
> NOTE 2: Yes, I repurpose Chicago citing to use chapter numbers and not page numbers. I couldn't think of a better way. (especially since page numbers don't exist on AO3)
> 
> NOTE (12/16/20): At one point, the first installment was the same name of the series _(How to Train Your Dragon Slayers)_ but in my notes I refer to the arc as _Of Dragons and Fairies_ , and it will be noted on the timeline as such. Once I finish it, I will update the title to match.

**CHAPTER 2:** The Pillow Fort

Acnologia lets the kids start to renovate the cave while he runs an errand, and they make a pillow fort.

[Takes place between _Of Dragons and Fairies_ chapters 5 and 6]

**Characters** : Gajeel, Wendy, and Rogue

**CHAPTER 3:** Wendy Drabble: X778

Wendy contemplates the meaning of family.

[As of ODAF 8]

**Characters:** Wendy

**Minor Characters:** Acnologia, Gajeel, Rogue, Charle, Natsu, Grandeeny, Roubaul

**CHAPTER 4** : Laxus Drabble: X778

Laxus from age eleven to seventeen.

[From ODAF 1 to ODAF 8]

**Characters:** Laxus

**Minor Characters:** Porlyusica, Makarov, Bickslow, Natsu, Lisanna, Acnologia, Ivan

**CHAPTER 5:** Laxus Learns Dragons Are Real

After their first training session, Laxus gets invited to the "dragon's den" for dinner—and answers to secrets he wasn't even aware of.

[during ODAF 11]

**Characters:** Laxus, Acnologia, Gajeel, Natsu, Wendy, Rogue, Charle, Happy

**CHAPTER 6:** Acnologia and Gildarts Level a Mountain

Acnologia and Gildarts attempt at engaging in a friendly spar—that doesn't destroy the environment.

[between ODAF 11 and 12]

**Characters:** Gildarts, Acnologia

**CHAPTER 7** : Dragons' First Christmas

The Christmas of the year X778 in the house of the dragons.

[between ODAF 11 and 12]

**Characters** : Acnologia, Natsu, Wendy, Gajeel, Rogue, Happy, Charle

**CHAPTER 8:** Meeting Mystogan

Acnologia meets Mystogan, and Wendy finds him again.

[post-ODAF]

**Characters:** Mystogan, Acnologia, Wendy

**CHAPTER 9:** Natsu's Secret

Natsu was never very good at keeping secrets. Not from his closest friends.

[between ODAF 8 and 9]

**Characters:** Natsu, Lisanna, Happy

**CHAPTER 10:** Plight of a Guildmaster

Makarov isn't sure what to make of Acnologia. 

[ODAF 11- 13]

**Characters:** Makarov, Porlyusica, Acnologia

**Minor Characters:** Gildarts, Wendy, Rogue

**CHAPTER 11:** Rising Thunder: Part I

Laxus encounters Bickslow for the first time.

[X775, pre-series]

**Characters:** Laxus, Bickslow, Bickslow's Babies

* * *

**TIMELINE**

**X588**

  * Acnologia finds out about dragon tamer magic; stops being a murder-hobo (ODAF 1)



**X772**

  * Ivan plants the lacrima into Laxus (ODAF 1) 
    * Acnologia encounters the scene



**X775**

October:

  * Bickslow joins Fairy Tail (Ch.11)



**X778**

February:

  * Acnologia adopts Wendy (ODAF 2)



April:

  * Gajeel and Rogue adopted (ODAF 4)
  * "The Pillow Fort" (Ch.2)



May:

  * Natsu found by Acnologia (ODAF 5 – 8)
  * "Natsu's Secret" (Ch.9)



June:

  * Acnologia and kids move to Magnolia. Start building house. (ODAF 9 – 10)



September:

  * (Early) House is finished. (ODAF 10)
  * Wendy, Rogue, and Gajeel join Fairy Tail. (ODAF 10)



October:

  * Acnologia joins Fairy Tail. (ODAF 11)
  * 25th—"Laxus Learns Dragons Are Real" (Ch.4)



December:

  * Laxus passes S-Class trial (ODAF 11)
  * 17th—"Acnologia and Gildarts Level a Mountain" (Ch.6)
  * 25th—"Dragons' First Christmas" (Ch.7)



**X779**

January

  * 8th—"Acnologia and Gildarts Level a Mountain" (Ch.6)
  * Sting found and adopted (ODAF 12)



April

  * 3rd—"Meeting Mystogan" (Ch.8)



December

  * Acnologia becomes S-Class (ODAF 13)



**X780**

March

  * 22nd—Acnologia brings Erik home. (TET 1)




	2. The Pillow Fort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place in between chapters 5 and 6 of _How to Raise Your Dragon Slayers_.

_Late April, X778_

“Here’s a little Jewel. It should be enough to get comfortable,” Acno said, handing Gajeel a small bag. “I’m going to get some more seeds and then medicine for Rogue. I’ll be back by early morning at the latest.”

Judging by the weight, Gajeel would have called it more than a _little_ Jewel, but the geezer was right in that it wouldn’t get furniture or anything. How much money did a guy earn doing nothing but brood, anyway? Well, Gajeel did notice that there was a lot of random junk in the side corridor, and some of it looked expensive. He supposed that if Acno was as old as he claimed (which Gajeel still couldn’t believe, but he would be patient for information for now) then it made sense that he would have picked up a thing or two.

Acno left, flying off to who-knows-where into the night sky. This time, he paid more attention to the transformation from man to dragon. The geezer wasn’t joking; it wasn’t just illusion magic. Gajeel hadn’t seen much transformation magic at play himself, but he didn’t imagine that it was supposed to be that gnarly looking.

He gave the pouch a few experimental tosses into the air. It was evening now, so he wouldn’t have much time to buy stuff—whatever the hell it was he was supposed to get. It crossed his mind that it would be easy to take the money and run. It would be enough for train fare and a few nights somewhere as well as food: long enough to get his bearings again. It was something Mash would’ve done, however, and it left a bad taste in his mouth thinking of doing the same thing.

Maybe he should stick with the dragon and the kids for a while. At least long enough to figure out what he was doing with his life. It was also kinda nice not to have to worry about everything for once. Acno kicking his ass the other day was proof enough that they wouldn’t be messed with easily. Sure, it hurt his pride at the time, but Acno was a motherfuckin’ dragon and not even Gajeel was stupid enough to believe he had a chance. If it was another human, Gajeel could’ve won a fight, no problem.

Yeah. That was it. Gajeel was an amazing badass capable of doing whatever he set his mind to, but even he needed a break sometime. Besides, Acno saw that he was the obvious choice to be in charge of purchasing shit, so that made in second-in-command in this operation. Second-in-command to a dragon wasn’t a bad place to be.

Gajeel walked to the edge of cave. “Blue-hair! Watch over Rogue while I’m gone.” They should be fine, but it felt like the thing to say.

He stopped short at the opening. He had expected something normal, like stairs, but there was nothing but rock and mountain.

“Um.” Blue-hair—Wendy—scampered up to his side. He remembered her always being the quiet type. Maybe not as much as Rogue, but still. Even when Anna-sensei would give her lessons, the girl practically whispered everything. Glad to know she was at least a _little_ louder now. “Ac-nii always flies.”

“No shit.” And why wouldn’t he? But how the hell was Gajeel supposed to get down?!

He gauged the distance. He could probably make that jump.

“I can help,” she continued.

The landing would probably hurt like hell, but his body could take it, along with a roar or somethin’ to cushion the fall. He could probably also find some rock-ledges to break up the descent.

“Huh?” Wendy’s statement finally registered. “Wha’dya say?”

“I can help,” she repeated, a little more confident now. “I’m, uh…I’m a sky mage?”

“Riiight.” He thought he remembered now. “That’s like, wind and crap, right?” That actually _would_ be useful.

Blue-hair nodded.

“Okay,” he agreed. Oh wait, that would leave Rogue alone. He was sure the kid could handle it, but he was sick and all. “Rogue?” he called. “You good to stay?”

Even to his sharp eyes, Rogue was just a fuzzy blob moving beneath the blankets deeper in the cave. “Yeah.” The reply was faint, but he sounded fully awake.

“I’ll watch him,” another voice squeaked. Gajeel looked to see that white cat that followed Wendy around. She was small, but she sounded confident in herself, so he would accept it.

“Alright, let’s go!”

Gajeel grabbed the tiny dragon slayer by the wrist and jumped out of the cave mouth with a shout of excitement. Wendy’s yelp was less excited, but she got the spirit when she gathered the air by her feet and swung her leg at the rapidly approaching ground. _“Sky Dragon Claw!”_

The wind did wonders to cushion their fall, but they still tumbled rather roughly across the rocky ground. Gajeel grabbed the kid and took the brunt of the impact, his iron scales handling it with only a little protest. While not as smoothly as he envisioned this stunt, he would still mark it as successful. He stood and dusted his sleeves with a grin. “Time to go to town.”

—o0o—

Shopping was stupid and too complicated. People might have mocked him for liking to sleep on the ground and just buy food, but it was far superior than dealing with price variations that made no sense and illogical packaging.

“I don’t want the whole damn floor; I just want the mats!”

The dumb shop-keep just nodded, though Gajeel could tell by the twitch of his eyebrow that he was breaking the man. Good. He deserved it, trying to lie to them like this.

If this general store wasn’t the only one still open in this stupid little town, Gajeel would have grabbed Wendy and left, but as it was, they were out of options. Maybe things would have been different if his usual intimidation technique wasn’t completely offset by Wendy’s big doe eyes, but at this point, Gajeel was just grateful that he had all the money, because Wendy would have bought anything this swindler suggested. As it were, her fascination with everything was making it hard to dissuade the man from trying to bullshit them all the time.

“Of course, _of course_ , my dear little customers,” the shop-keep blabbered. “You needn’t refurbish your entire floor, but for those bed mats to be properly comfortable, the flooring pads would be irreplaceable! Isn’t that right, my dear?”

Wendy poked the mat for the umpteenth time. “It’s soft!” she giggled.

“And how much softer it would be with the pads!”

Gajeel grabbed a fistful full of the shop-keep’s coat, yanking the puny man forward. He was only as tall as he was, and Gajeel hadn’t even stopped growing yet; how pathetic. “Just shut up and let us buy whatever the hell we want, ‘kay?!” he growled.

The shop-keep nodded quickly, and finally backed off. Gajeel couldn’t help but to feel pride at his successful power play, with the squirt watching. Now that they were together again, he might as well teach her how to be a proper badass.

Anyway. Shopping.

Now that the distraction was gone for the time being, Gajeel turned back to the shelves. He was still confused about the mats, to be honest, because it wasn’t as simple as, ‘here, buy this’—it had to be in parts, and shit. Complicated for no good reason. Maybe he just needed to guess how many sections of a bed mat he needed? His head hurt.

“Whad’ya think, squirt?” he asked Wendy. “You good with the just the mats, or—whad’ya got there?”

Wendy had tottered over to another section, filled with the _other_ parts of bedding—the blankets and shit. Gajeel only bothered with stuff like that when it was really cold, because he was used to going without: his steel body could handle it. However, Wendy had already buried her arms in anything she could touch, her previous wide-eyed excitement nothing compared to giddiness she had now. “They’re so soft!” she squealed. “Can we get this? Please?”

Damn. Gajeel was starting to realize why a grump like Acno kept her around. She was impossible to say no to. Too damn cute and pure.

“Lemme see,” he grumbled. He walked over to where she was and grabbed the blanket experimentally, if only to see the price. Huh. They did feel pretty soft. And they were as thick as the mats, with less cost and more surface area.

“You be fine with just these?”

Wendy nodded enthusiastically.

Not a bad idea, actually. Shit, Rogue seemed to be comfortable in all them furs back at the cave, so he probably wouldn’t mind something as simple as this, either. Well, why the hell not, then?

Gajeel grabbed an armful of blankets and a couple of pillows, and Wendy did the same. If the shop-keep questioned them, he learned to keep his damn mouth shut, because he only asked for the appropriate amount of Jewel. (And Gajeel had checked the tags, so he knew he wasn’t getting scammed or anything.

Mission success.

—o0o—

The mission had one last kick in the face, unfortunately. Gajeel scowled at the mountain, angry at the fact that he never considered how the hell they were supposed to get back _up_ to the cave.

Damn reclusive dragon geezer. Why did he have to choose somewhere so high up and hard to access? It was annoying.

The shop-keep gave them bags for all the stuff, which was helpful, but it was still cumbersome. How the hell was he supposed to get up there by himself, let alone carry all this shit? Wendy seemed just as stuck, staring up at the mountain with owlish eyes. “Ac-nii normally flies.”

“You think I don’t know that?!”

Gajeel growled to himself. Damnit. If he couldn’t figure _this_ out, how the hell was he supposed to be able to do anything else? It was just _climbing_. Any dragon should be able to do something this simple.

Just climbing. No problem.

He started by scaling the rocks, walking uphill and hauling himself over particularly large boulders. It was with those, and even some of the smaller ones, that he had to pull Wendy up too, because her tiny hands didn’t have the same grip strength. It was slower than he would have liked, but the ascent worked—until the rocks got taller and became more sheer. He could dig his fingers into the stone to make footholds, but not even he could do that and pull up another person and a bunch of stuff at the same time.

“I wish there were stairs,” Wendy sighed suddenly. “There were stairs at Cait Shelter, up to the top room. It was pretty up there.”

Gajeel blinked. Stairs. Yeah, stairs up the fucking mountain, what a novel idea? _Stairs_. What was he supposed to do? Carve them into the mountain? Summon them from nowhere? He wasn’t a make-mage, he was a damn iron—

Wait.

“Oi, squirt, hold these fer’ a sec.”

There were on a large enough cliff to stand, so he handed Wendy the bags he was holding, which were most all of them except for the one pillow she wanted to carry to be helpful. Little Blue-Hair looked like she could topple over, but she was sturdy enough not to, even with the added weight.

He cracked his knuckles and rolled his shoulder back. Even though his magic was more suited to coating and transforming his body, the iron was a summoned substance. He could shoot it out in small chunks, but it should be enough. Gajeel punched forward and a rung of iron slammed into the wall. It was no set of stairs, but the ladder was a pretty damn fine idea if you asked him.

It was solidly dark by the time they made it up. Not too dark for people with a dragon’s senses, but he was glad for the dim fire of the cave when they came back.

“Gajeel! Wendy!” Rogue called excitedly. He was awake, which was good, but he still looked tired. Damn. Squirt must have waited for them.

“About time,” the cat snorted.

“Yeah, yeah.” It would have been sooner if not for the irritating shop-keep, he was sure. Mountain had nothing to do with it. “We got blankets and pillows and shit for everyone’s beds.”

“That’s not the whole bed,” Charle accused.

“It is now, kitty.”

They dumped the goods into a pile beside the pile of furs that Rogue was already nestled in. He figured that Rogue would get first pick ‘cause he was sick and all, and then they could divvy up the rest. Rogue snatched a bright green blanket and held to his chest. “It’s so soft,” he breathed.

Wendy bounced beside him. “Aren’t they?!” she squealed. “We got a lot, too!”

Rogue stared at the pile like it was a god. “Is…is this how you make…pillow forts?” he asked, first to the pile and then to Gajeel.

“Pillow fort?” Wendy repeated, confused but equally fascinated. “What’s that?”

“Um…” Rogue looked down for some reason. “I’m not too sure. Some of the other kids talked about it, once, and it sounded fun, but…”

Not for the first time, Gajeel kicked himself for how he handled Rogue, though in his defense, he hadn’t remembered the kid at the time. It wasn’t long after he joined Phantom Lord that he crossed paths with the boy. He was tiny and awestruck, and Gajeel had been annoyed by his presence. Perhaps it was residual memory, or maybe it was just because Rogue recognized his awesome power, but Rogue—Ryos, he had been called at the time, maybe ‘cause that hag at the orphanage didn’t like his name—had latched onto him like he was some sort of savior. Gajeel hadn’t wanted to help anyone at that time. Every time he had tried helping folks back at Denish, it ultimately amounted to nothing but trouble for himself. And the one time that maybe Gajeel needed help, it was Mash who struck off on his own and got his ass arrested and left Gajeel in the dirt.

At that time, it didn’t matter to Gajeel that Rogue looked pathetic and thin, his wonder-filled eyes hurting. It didn’t matter that he wreaked of dirt and his pale skin spoke of bruising, and that it didn’t take a genius to know that the orphanage in Oak Town was shit. No one there gave a crap about it, however, so neither did Gajeel. He didn’t want to be bothered.

He ignored Rogue then—scorned him, even. Is that why Gajeel’s insides twisted up when he watched Rogue now, quiet and unsure yet still so damn hopeful, when he at least hadn’t been afraid to speak up back when they were kids with their dragons? Is that why Gajeel felt like, despite not being involved, that this was his fault?

Gajeel’s childhood wasn’t the model kid’s either, but he at least knew what a pillow fort was, if only because Mash had been a talker and also a toddler at heart, so even if the other street rat had a ‘messed-up childhood’ as well, Gajeel at least learned a lot of things from the guy.

He may not be an expert, but in comparison to Wendy and Rogue, he was, and that was all the mattered now. “Hell yeah we can make a pillow fort. I’ll make you a whole pillow city. Grab as much soft shit as you can carry and follow me.”

—o0o—

It took longer than Gajeel anticipated, considering his penchant for building, but in his defense, it wasn’t as if there was much the short pipsqueaks could do in the way of helping besides handing him stuff. But that didn’t matter now, because if he said so himself, the pillow fort was fucking _epic_.

It was more blankets than pillows, but that just meant that their walls were high, and their floor was swaddled. You could forget the ground was stone in this thing. Wendy and Rogue were having the time of their lives, burrowing into the structure like chipmunks.

Seeing them happy was a gratifying feeling. After Denish, there was a part of Gajeel that thought that that feeling was just a scam he sold himself, that looking out for others was just a waste of time if he couldn’t even handle himself, but the empty nagging was gone now. Maybe it left when his memories returned, or maybe it left when he wasn’t paying attention. It could still be there, but for now, Gajeel felt good.

Rogue fell asleep first, but that tea that Acno would have him drink always made him sleepy, so it was to be expected. Wendy was soon behind, which wasn’t surprising because it was late and she did a lot of running around for a pipsqueak.

Gajeel stayed awake, because someone had to. However, he was pretty tired, and thanks to his amazing skills, the pillow fort was really comfortable, even to a guy who grew up sleeping against an iron-hard dragon. They were high up in an impossible to reach cave anyway. What could happen?

He didn’t know when he dropped his guard, but Gajeel was fast asleep before the night ended.


	3. Wendy Drabble: X778

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So as aforementioned, no main story update, but a veeeery small drabble to appease y'all in the meantime. (Writing is hard when Genshin Impact is very distracting.) This is my second go at writing a young child's POV. I will get better in time. I hope. Even though Wendy is six, there's also the weird upbringing to take into account so um... I tried my best.
> 
> Written as of ODAF 8.

Wendy read about families in her storybooks. Families were often in the storybooks that Grandeeny would read to her at bedtime, and in the ones that Ms. Anna would read when she was teaching them. Wendy continued to learn how to read, because she wanted to get better at it, at Cait Shelter, and the books she would find would have mommies and daddies and maybe sisters and brothers. Sometimes, she would even see these people in real life at the marketplace when she got to go to town.

It was only through these books that Wendy knew that she wasn’t normal.

Children always looked like their parents, and there were always two. Wendy just had Grandeeny, and even though Grandeeny raised her like a mommy and cared for her like one, she was a dragon. Wendy never saw that in a book—not yet, at least. Grandeeny would say and do the same things though: feed her, take her places, whisper “I love you” as she sung Wendy to sleep.

She had a mommy, and that mommy was Grandeeny and Wendy loved her. But she didn’t have a daddy, or brothers and sisters or aunts and uncles. She didn’t think she did, anyway, and Wendy was always curious what it would be like.

Wendy hoped she would find out at Cait Shelter. Master Roubaul was really nice, and he took care of her and told really long stories. Did that make him a grandpa? Wendy knew that…he wasn’t really there, but he was in spirit, and it was nice when it lasted.

But it was okay that Master Roubaul wasn’t there anymore, because grandpas normally just visited. It was parents and siblings that stayed all the time.

Ac-nii was there all the time, and he was big and strong and he let her color and watch over his shoulder when he gardened, and even though he would act grumpy sometimes, he was always nice. That was family, right? Was that what older brothers did? Or uncles? He wasn’t a parent because he wasn’t there when she was a baby, he came later, but this counted as something, right? Wendy wanted it too, because family was supposed to always be there, and she didn’t want anyone else to go away. And Ac-nii was easy to say, and he never corrected her, so that meant he really _was_ family.

And then Ac-nii told her about the other kids and called them her cousins! She had cousins! Cousins were family! Although now Gajeel and Rogue were living with them all the time, so did that make them siblings? Whatever they were, Wendy really enjoyed having them around. Gajeel also acted grumpy like older brothers do, but he did cool things like build pillow forts and swings from the ceiling with his cool metal magic. He and Natsu also argued, which was something that some siblings did, too. Rogue was her age, or maybe younger, and he was quiet but he liked flowers and animals just like she did, and they would explore the garden and the cave together and watch the bats that lived in the far corner for hours.

If they were her brothers, or maybe cousins, then Charle _had_ to be her little sister because Wendy was there when Charle hatched and they’ve been together ever since. Sometimes Charle pretended she was the older one, but Wendy knew how age worked! Wendy was there first, but since she was too young to be a mommy, that made her a sister!

“What’cha reading, squirt?” Gajeel asked from above, ruffling her hair just like Ac-nii did and leaning over her shoulder.

“A storybook!” Wendy giggled. “About a princess!”

“Sound boring. Have fun.”

“I’m sure it’s not boring,” Rogue argued, walking over. He peaked at the book shyly, so Wendy held it wider. “Can I read too?”

“Yeah!” Wendy flipped back to the beginning. It was one of the books Master Roubaul gave her, about a princess that finds her family after getting lost in the woods. The princess had a mommy and a daddy and a big brother, and there was a happy ending where they all got reunited in the end. Wendy smiled at the thought. It was nice, but not everything needed to be like the storybooks.

Because hers was bigger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How does a child who was raised by a dragon and never knew her birth parents conceptualize family? (How do I write the deep musings of a child? The world may never know...)


	4. Laxus Drabble: X778

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laxus from age eleven to seventeen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uhhhhhh.... This isn't a chapter of the main story, I know. But finals are busy and that chapter still isn't done, so I decided to try to appease y'all with Laxus instead.
> 
> This takes place in loose increments between the first chapter and ending in Laxus' confrontation with Acnologia in the 9th chapter of _How to Raise Your Dragon Slayers_.

Laxus lost his father when he was eleven years old; he lost his mother even younger—so young he barely remembered her at all. It was supposed to be traumatic, but all he felt was numb.

It wasn’t that Laxus didn’t love his father—he really did. His dad was a Fairy Tail mage, and so was Laxus, and so was Laxus’ grandfather, who was the guild master himself. His entire family was Fairy Tail, and since his dad was a powerful mage, he was often gone. Laxus often asked if he could come with his dad on jobs, but he would usually get brushed off. _“When you’re older,”_ Ivan would say, or, _“if you get stronger.”_

He understood. As a little kid, he always understood, even if he didn’t like it. His dad was an amazing, powerful mage, always on dangerous and awesome missions, and Laxus was tiny and scrawny and weak. He would only hold his dad back. So he happily stayed at the guild with Gramps and watched the other mages and dreamed of getting stronger.

It was true: he was weak. Even when he tried and tried and _tried_ , Laxus could not produce magic. His dad said that it was because he was sick, which must be true, because his family was full of powerful magic, but Laxus was not. His dad told him he would find a cure, though, so Laxus always had hope that one day, he could be a _real_ Fairy Tail mage.

The day came, but it was nothing like Laxus imagined.

His father summoned him and said he had a solution—a cure. It was his dream come true. All Laxus had to do was go somewhere private for the operation, because his dad didn’t want other people’s magic to affect the lacrima in a bad way. It made sense. The place his dad found was definitely out of the way, but it was lonely and a little creepy. Laxus wondered if it was abandoned.

“Hold still.”

That was the last concrete thing Laxus remembered—the last words he ever remembered his father saying, although Laxus doubted those were the last he said. Everything went white. It hurt _so badly_ and Laxus could barely breathe. He tasted lightning and it wriggled up his throat and into his chest like fire, and that was the first time Laxus was scared of magic.

In hindsight, everything was a fever dream. His brain shut most of it out—but he does remember the doctor. The doctor and his stormy, Not-Human eyes.

The same eyes Laxus saw in the mirror some days, but not every-day. It happened rarely enough that Laxus wasn’t sure if he was imagining it or not—but then he would have a hard workout, or a tough mission, or just a random flare of magic, and his tongue would bleed and his mouth felt sharp and the colors _changed_ somehow, and Laxus knew that if he could see himself it would be _different._

He didn’t know how he should feel about it. Gramps didn’t want to talk about it—what happened—so Laxus never asked.

He asked Porlyusica instead, when he was thirteen.

When the Incident first happened, it was her that told him his dad was dead. She didn’t bother skirting around the subject like Gramps did, but then, his dad was Gramps’ kid, so it was natural that he would be sad too. Laxus was grateful for all the care that his grandfather gave him, but he was resigned to the fact that he was busy, and even if he wasn’t, he didn’t want to talk about it. Yeah, it was frustrating, but Laxus barely wanted to talk about it either.

Because Laxus had his theories.

He couldn’t control the surge of magic that awakened in him that day all that well, especially soon after— _especially_ the moment it happened. He vaguely recalled the doctor telling him it was a miracle he survived, and when Laxus saw the scar over his eye and on his chest, he was inclined to believe him, even if the scars didn’t hurt him now. Enough of the pain still laced his memory.

His dad had been right next to him when the lightning came.

His dad was strong, but he wasn’t a light or a lightning mage, and lightning _hurt_.

Killed.

Laxus had always wondered. _Feared._

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore, and the young teen made his way to the grumpy medic’s cabin alone. There was a large possibility his questions would go unanswered, but it was either her or the doctor that buried his dad—hid the body from him. He knew where the grave was; if he cared about his sanity more than his dad’s resting peace, Laxus might have been tempted to dig it up, just to see, but the thought never even occurred to him two years ago.

Laxus spent a few days with her recovering, and then every time his magic lost control, he would go see her again. It had been a while, but he had spent enough time in her presence to know that she was straightforward.

She only just opened her door before the question blurted out. “Did I kill Dad?”

Laxus took pride in how well he kept things together, deep in his chest—like his dad, like Gramps. His eyes stung then, though.

Porlyusica stared at him, then ushered him inside with a long but relieving sigh. “No.”

“How can you be so sure?” he accused. She wasn’t the lying type, but she could be secretive.

He was so fucking tired of secrets.

“The man who tended to you that night—it was him that killed Ivan. He told me when he brought you here.”

The fight left him, but confusion remained. The doctor? He was a healer, though, and his dad was a powerful mage. But… Laxus wasn’t sure if it was true, or if his memory betrayed him, but there _was_ something strange about the doctor, with his sharp eyes and sharper teeth. His strong hands and wild hair, even if his touch had been gentle at the time. _A dragon slayer_ , the doctor called himself. If he succeeded in killing his dad, he had to have been powerful, and he said that Laxus was a ‘dragon slayer’ too. Laxus didn’t know what the meant, but it could mean that he would be strong as well. He felt guilty at the flash of excitement that thought gave him.

“Does Gramps know?”

“No, but I’m sure he suspects it. Makarov still sees his son the way he wants to, so who am I to ruin that?”

Laxus bristled. “But…if that man murdered Dad, shouldn’t we do something about it?!”

Porlyusica pinched the bridge of her nose. “He wasn’t malicious when he killed Ivan, I’m sure. He thought Ivan was hurting you, and he acted impulsively. One can argue that he was right or wrong, but what is done is done.”

“But…Dad wouldn’t hurt me…”

As the words left his mouth, his conviction wavered. _Illegal dragon lacrima_ , that doctor had said. And weren’t dragons dangerous? Evil? Extinct, purportedly. There was also the fact that his dad had gotten that lacrima in the first place. If it was to protect Laxus, he didn’t doubt that his dad would do whatever he had to, legal or not, but the insertion caused Laxus more pain than not, even if he was stronger.

It was enough to create that glimmer of doubt.

Porlyusica left abruptly, somewhere in his brief retrospection, and she came back with a piece of paper she pressed into his hand. On it was directions scribbled in terrible handwriting that Laxus didn’t recognize to be Porlyusica’s, and with it, a description of the building Laxus remembered.

“If you want to know so badly, go back there,” she said. “You probably won’t like what you find though, so don’t come crying back to me.”

Laxus went. He was thirteen and desperate and _curious_ , so he used the sloppy directions to find the impossible to find hideout. He found the hidden rooms. The dusty office.

Laxus was thirteen when every perception he ever had about his father shattered.

He learned to embrace his magic. Lightning felt natural to him now, regardless of the scars that reminded him of how unnatural the awakening of that magic was. When he was fourteen, he got a tattoo to cover the wicked scar on his chest; Gramps was mad he did it without permission, but Laxus did it with his own money, so it didn’t matter. The matter got dropped, and they moved on. He left the scar on his eye though. It was shaped like a lightning bolt, and Laxus liked the way kids in Magnolia or towns he went to for jobs squealed in delight at how it matched his magic. It _did_ look pretty awesome.

Laxus barely knew anything about his magic, though. He had to look it up in damn _libraries_ , and even then, the information was unhelpful. Dragon slayer magic did in fact exist, but sources only ever talked about how it was used to kill dragons—apparently the beasts were nigh untouchable without it. They didn’t talk about how sometimes Laxus grew sharp teeth or craved crackling foods with an intensity he could never satisfy, or how he could see and smell and hear things better than he could before.

Bickslow helped him research, but most of what they learned was by trial and error. It was fine. That’s how most people learned their magic, though most people didn’t have the crazy side effects. Bickslow was a good help to keep him relatively sane.

He came across the other teen when he was fourteen and on a job. Bickslow was just a year younger, but even without asking, Laxus knew that Bickslow was no stranger to possessing odd magic. How they met was evidence enough—although both Laxus and Bickslow were more than happy enough to never speak of that again.

So yes, Laxus was a capable Fairy Tail mage and he could handle the uncertainty, because magic was full of it. But he did really, _really_ want to figure out why he got those weird cravings.

New members of Fairy Tail came all the time, though there did seem to be an influx of younger ones lately. Laxus didn’t mind. Some of them were rowdy, but some really did seem to be good mages, and that’s all that really mattered.

When he was sixteen, however, the newest member of Fairy Tail threw him in for a loop, because Natsu claimed that he, too, was a dragon slayer.

The eleven-year-old was confident about it, too. He was a fire mage, though, so his magic was different from Laxus’ own, and it was hard to tell what made him a dragon slayer just like Laxus could barely tell about himself. But Natsu also had sharp canines that were there all the time, and he heard the same far-off noises Laxus did.

Laxus didn’t approach Natsu immediately. Truthfully, he was a little scared—scared of the answer, or of being disappointed, Laxus didn’t know, because Natsu also said ridiculous things like being _raised_ by a dragon, so he wasn’t ready to put his faith in him just yet.

He did get a big clue a few months after, although Laxus scarcely knew what to make of the information.

Natsu was slumped over one of the tables, looking generally irritable. “I’m hungry,” he grumbled.

Lisanna was perched next to him, still the ever cheerful one. She was the quickest to warm up to the guild of the siblings, and she and Natsu also hit it off pretty quickly, and the otherwise aggressive fire mage lightened up some himself. “We could order something from the menu,” she suggested.

“No, not that.” Then he looked up at Laxus, noticing him enter the guild for the first time. “Hey! Laxus! Can you make some lightning?”

While Laxus was still trying to process the bizarre request, Lisanna smacked him lightly on the head. “Lightning is not fire,” she chastised, apparently aware of Natsu’s reasoning. Laxus wasn’t the only one clueless, however; several guild members looked on with befuddlement.

“Yeah, but it’s close, right?”

Lisanna frowned. “I don’t think so… Oh! Look, how about that torch. I know how to start a fire!”

The seventeen-year-old watched, bemused, as the two kids made the effort to make a fire without Natsu’s magic.

And then he _ate it_.

Straight through the mouth, Natsu inhaled fire like it was air. “Oh yeah! I’m all fired up now!”

“You…” Laxus watched for any signs of injury, but there was none. “You ate fire.”

Natsu titled his head like _he_ was the crazy one. “Yeah, ‘cause I’m a dragon slayer.”

“What?”

“Igneel said that’s what dragon slayers do—eat fire.”

That…couldn’t be right. Laxus wasn’t fireproof, he was very sure. “Why though? Did…Igneel say?”

Natsu furrowed his brow like he was having trouble remembering. Which wasn’t a surprise, because if food wasn’t involved, Natsu didn’t remember a lot of things. “I dunno.” He shrugged. “But it gives me magic, and it tastes great.”

Gramps would have lost his mind, so Laxus made the calculated decision not to inform him of his theory just yet. He would have only stressed, or worse, disregarded the theory entirely. It was fine, though, because Laxus was used to doing things on his own.

So he told Bickslow instead.

Bickslow watched as Laxus choked on his own lightning and coughed for ten minutes. At least he stopped laughing five minutes after. It was embarrassing.

“Wait.” Laxus remembered a glaring detail, and he felt dumb for not realizing it sooner. “Natsu didn’t make the fire.”

Bickslow tilted his head, ever expressionistic even with a helmet covering half his face. “What’s that got to do with— oh, you think the source matters?”

“He said it gave him magic. He can’t create more magic for himself by making it.”

“Oh, that’s a good point.” Bickslow grinned. “Do you need to stand on a weathervane and wait for a storm next? That’d be fun.”

“You’re right, that sounds stupid,” Laxus sighed. “It was worth a try though.”

It was one of the bigger solo jobs he took when he discovered how it worked. He didn’t think it would be so big when he accepted it, but the challenge was fine—preferred, even. Things did get dicey though. When Laxus got ambushed by a bunch of mercenaries, he even wished he had brought someone else along, like Bickslow, or even Cana.

That didn’t matter though, because Laxus was alone, but Laxus would prevail. He liked to think that he remembered the theories about dragon slayer magic when he faced that opposing mage’s lightning attack dead on, but truth was, he didn’t. He acted only out of lack of defense and some primal instinct.

He ate lightning for the first time that day, and it was _invigorating_. Laxus wiped the floor with the rest of the mercenaries, and he was left wondering how he had ever felt alive beforehand.

Laxus was seventeen when he saw the doctor again, against all odds. The man was there, in the guild hall, with Natsu beside him and a new scent to his person as the proud fire mage almost tried to hide behind the intimidating doctor.

The doctor—Acnologia, he said his name was—did indeed have a dangerous aura, more so than Laxus remembered as a child, despite the fact that Laxus couldn’t seem to sense or measure the extent of his magic. Regardless, Laxus intrinsically knew he was dangerous.

And yet, Laxus wanted nothing more than to demand answers. Beg, even, if he had to. He was inextricably drawn to the man as much as he would have been content never seeing him again. However, the fact that this Acnologia was his only source of information won, and one faltered confrontation later, Laxus was running out of the guild despite Gramps’ confused yelp and chasing after the incredibly fast man.

Eventually, Acnologia allowed him to catch up.

He was surprisingly patient, even as Laxus vacillated between wanting to hate him and wanting to put his hope in him. Though the truth was, Laxus had already come to terms with the fact that his father didn’t love him—at least, not as much as a father should. His death wasn’t a tragedy anymore, just a fact. Still, Laxus was uncomfortable with the fact that he was murdered by a stranger who also saved his life. It didn’t make sense.

Laxus just wanted to know why. He wanted to know why fate chose him to toy with, but he was content knowing what he could get his hands on. Anything would help fill this hole in his chest.

He never imagined, after that encounter, even after the promise of training, that he would gain solidarity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will post the next chapter of HTRYDS next week, I promise. 
> 
> Also, I am Very Tempted to make a proper meeting-of-the-Thunder-Legion side story. I know I hinted at all three of them being there when he was seventeen, but maybe just barely? Bickslow is definitely here first, then the other two younger ones come along later. We'lllll seeeeeee....


	5. Laxus Learns Dragons Are Real

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their first training session, Laxus gets invited to the "dragon's den" for dinner—and answers to secrets he wasn't even aware of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra scene that takes place during _Of Dragons and Fairies_ chapter 10. 
> 
> 12/16/10: Yeah, I just changed/am changing the name of the first story cause I'm doing myself a confusing having it the same as the series.

_October 25 th, X788_

Laxus hovered outside the cabin in the woods, equal parts curious and anxious.

The training session he had that afternoon with Acnologia was by far the most bizarre he had ever had in his life. It was informative, certainly; the man knew more about the finer aspects of dragon slayer magic—magic in _general_ —than Laxus had ever imagined, but the nonchalance threw him off. Nothing fazed him. Attacks that Laxus used to bring grown men to their knees barely scratched him. Hell, he _ate_ some of it—and then commentated like it was an experimental recipe.

It all looped around to Laxus’ sub-par understanding of what a dragon slayer really was. He was beginning to suspect that it was far more complicated than just a type of magic, although with the senses and the cravings for lightning, he should have already guessed that.

Acnologia offered him explanation. Laxus had long since resigned himself to the fact that he rarely ever got straightforward and complete answers about anything, so he stopped hoping for them; however, Acnologia was forthright when it came to magic, so Laxus dared to hope this would be informative.

He went back to the dorms and showered, working quickly to avoid Freed. He would deal with him later, or maybe just plead with Bickslow to convince Freed to let up instead. Laxus didn’t mind the younger mage—he was talented and sincere—but _damn_ , he needed a better hobby than following Laxus. He couldn’t take it. He had no idea how to live up to…whatever it was that Freed thought of him.

That was a later problem. Now, he was in front of the infamous and mysterious ‘dragon den’ (as guild rumor called it) with no idea what to expect. Except for noise, which he heard lots of from the other side of the door.

The door that finally opened, with an annoyed looking Gajeel on the other side. “You coulda’ come in, ya know. Or at least knocked, and not stood out here like a creep.”

“Uh…”

The younger teen rolled his eyes with a laugh, leaving the doorway and beckoning for Laxus to follow.

If implications hadn’t been enough, then now Laxus knew that all of the self-proclaimed dragon slayers did, in fact, live in the same cabin in the woods. New cabin, at that. Including Natsu, whom Laxus knew slept elsewhere formerly. Because Wendy, Rogue, Happy, and Wendy’s cat were at the table eating fruit, Gajeel had come to the door, and Natsu was hovering over Acnologia at the stove.

“Skies, I hate ovens,” Acnologia growled, pulling out a turkey out and sniffing it. “No fucking clue what’s happening in there.”

Natsu poked it. “I think it’s done now. I can give it a breath just in case—”

“Hands off my meat before you annihilate it again.”

“Hey, it wasn’t _that_ bad—”

Gajeel snorted. “It was ash, flame-head.”

“Aye!” Happy agreed.

Laxus half expected Natsu to start a fight right then and there, like he often did with Gray and sometimes even Gajeel, but this time he just scratched his head sheepish. “Heh, you’re right.”

Acnologia spotted him—or at least, made eye contact. Laxus firmly believed that he already knew Laxus was there. “Grab food and sit.”

“Yes, sir,” came the immediate, reflexive reply.

“Cut the sir bullshit. Please.”

“Uh, right.”

When Acnologia said ‘sit’ he meant anywhere, judging by the habits of the kids—which made sense because the table only fit four comfortably, with five chairs fit underneath. Wendy and Rogue had claimed two of those seats, Happy sat _on_ the table, Gajeel and Natsu sat on various spots on the countertop, and Charle and Acnologia both sat on barstools. Laxus didn’t expect anything, but it was odd to see how equally chaotic and…familial the group was. Laxus grabbed one of the kitchen chairs and sat at the table.

As Laxus tried to figure out how to start the conversation, because his questions had questions and wording them was hard (the turkey was good, though, and it was a little distracting), Acnologia decided to start abruptly.

Very abruptly.

“I’m a dragon.”

Laxus’ fork hovered mid-air. “Wha— I know you’re a dragon slayer, though.”

“No. Well, yes, I _am_ a dragon slayer, but I’m also just a dragon.” Acnologia flexed his fingers, and briefly, they appeared as claws—blue, thick, and curved. “So my physical abilities are greater than a human’s. I know you must have been wondering.”

“Well, yeah, but I just figured you were… I don’t know, like Gildarts are something. But you’re a…dragon?” There wasn’t even conclusive evidence dragons were real—or at least, not anymore. With the existence of this magic, Laxus had begun to wonder. “You’re shitting me, right?”

Wendy shook her head. “No, Ac-nii _is_ a dragon.”

At this, Laxus surveyed the kids and found that none of them were surprised or amused, like they would be if they were in on the joke. They honestly believed he was a dragon.

What the hell?

“It’s true.” Acnologia shrugged. “It’s not something I advertise, especially to humans, but you’re going to find out eventually. Not to mention, when your magic gets stronger, it will affect me differently than it would others.”

At this, Natsu interrupted. “Wait, is dragon slayer magic weaker against humans? Aw man…”

“No, it’s still effective—but it’s designed to disrupt a dragon’s magic. As I’m also a slayer, I can’t say I know if it’ll be the same as regular dragons.”

Gajeel furrowed his brow. “Hey Acno—you’ve actually fought dragons, haven’t you?”

“Yes.”

The black-haired teen flicked a piece of lettuce at Natsu. “Told ya’ so.”

“Hey! I never said he didn’t!”

“Didn’t say he did, either.”

Laxus could only stare, hardly paying attention to whatever side conversation Natsu and Gajeel were having now. Dragons. He wasn’t sure what was harder to grasp—that dragons were real, dragons still existed, or that this human-looking mage _was_ a dragon. Did he use transformation magic to turn into a dragon? Is that what he meant? Or…he was using it to turn into a human.

It was true that Acnologia was…strange. His physical abilities were far beyond normal mages, but Laxus also knew Gildarts, so he knew it was possible. But even Gildarts used magic as both defense and offense; there were times in that training session that Laxus couldn’t detect hardly anything from the blue-haired man. He was built like a rock.

But a _dragon?_

“Wait, let me get this straight. You’re a…dragon, and… And what, dragons exist? Where the hell are they then?”

For a moment, Acnologia’s face warped into a grimace, and Laxus wasn’t sure he was going to answer at all. “Most dragons are dead,” he finally admitted. The others looked uncomfortable too, now. “I haven’t personally seen another one for… about two hundred years. But I haven’t sought one out either.”

Laxus nearly choked when the sentence registered. “Two hundred—?! _How_ old are you supposed to be?”

If it was a joke, then Acnologia was good at looking serious. He had to stop and think about it, too. “Um. I’ll be honest, I lost track, but well over four hundred.”

Laxus must have been gaping, because Acnologia huffed a laugh at his expense. “Dragons do live a long time, you know. Oldest I knew back in the day said he was nearly a thousand.”

“Wait.” He needed to slow down and think and actually absorb this. The longer this went, the less unsure Laxus was that this was just some joke. “Natsu—you said you were raised by a dragon, and you’re like twelve. So are dragons just hiding or something? Do they all turn into humans like you?”

Acnologia paused to consider this. “I didn’t know many dragons with transformation magic, but it’s not impossible… But I don’t think Igneel ever did that.”

There was a look shared between Acnologia, Gajeel, and Natsu that gave Laxus the distinct impression they were still hiding something. “What? Is there _more_ I don’t know?”

Gajeel shrugged and Natsu nodded, but before Laxus could get frustration at the blatant show of secrecy, it proved to be a signal to spill the beans. Acnologia sighed. “There is another thing.”

“But don’t go blabbin’ it to the guild,” Gajeel added.

“Well, don’t share the part about me being a dragon, either,” Acnologia sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t want unnecessary attention to get drawn to us or the guild.”

“Yeah, sure,” Laxus agreed easily. He didn’t think anyone else would believe him anyway. It might be hard to keep it from Bickslow if he ever got curious, but Bickslow also knew how to mind his own business. It was one of the things Laxus liked about him.

“The kids are from four hundred years in the past. It’s one of the reasons we don’t know where their dragons are.”

“…the hell?” Of all the things Acnologia could have said, he didn’t think anything would be more ridiculous than ‘I’m a dragon.’

“Don’t ask too many questions, because truthfully, I have very little clue. Magic is a mystery even to those who know it. As for why—likely only their foster parents truly know.”

Wendy and Rogue seemed unbothered, but granted, they were too young to be vexed by complicated things. Gajeel shrugged at him, and Natsu studied his food intently. If he was more belligerent, Laxus would know to bother the fire dragon slayer on the topic, but if this was true, it might be…messy.

He decided to wait.

“Okay. Let me see if I got this right. You—” he pointed at Acno “are a _dragon._ You four are from the past, and you were _all_ raised by dragons?”

He got a chorus of nods.

“Damn.”

“Five, actually,” Rogue said softly. “Sting is still missing.”

Acnologia filled in. “Due to whatever magic slung them in the future, their memories got jumbled. They didn’t remember each other nor their original time, though most were in the care of their dragons far from civilization anyway.”

“That’s… Wow.” Laxus would probably process all of this better later, but now… That just sucked. He understood why they were so reclusive—even Natsu, now, when he had practically lived at the guild before. Of course, Natsu had been angry at first, prone to lashing out, and now he was just as fiery, but also…quieter? It depended on the crowd and on the occasion. Laxus knew the feeling.

Even if he didn’t know what to make of it, a part of Laxus was touched that the information was offered to him at all. Laxus had long since gotten used to having to either fight for answers by himself or resign himself to knowing that they will never come. He had learned to function without the big picture, and he even learned to appreciate the art of privacy—but to be trusted was still nice.

He did hope this wasn’t an elaborate prank, because damn was it strange. Not that Fairy Tail was a stranger to that.

Acnologia sighed, but there was a slight smile on his face. “You want to see it, don’t you?”

Well, he _was_ offering…

Laxus didn’t know whether to be awed or terrified—though the little kid in him was winning.

They exited the house and went to that clearing. Acnologia simply cracked his neck and then his body started…unfolding. The magic covered most of it, but soon he grew and a giant, _massive_ dragon stood in his place, though his scent didn’t change at all. Laxus always imagined that they were big, but his imagination hadn’t done it justice.

Acnologia didn’t have much in terms of facial expression in this form, but Laxus could hear the rumbling of a chuckle. “Feel tiny yet?”

Laxus had another, more _hilariously_ pressing thought, however:

“So _this_ is how you never take the train.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Laxus doesn't even know everything yet, and he's already overloaded, poor boy.


	6. Acnologia and Gildarts Level a Mountain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Acnologia and Gildarts attempt at engaging in a friendly spar—that doesn't destroy the environment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The trees and the earth quake in fear at the thought of two of the most OP units in Fairy Tail going toe to toe. Luckily, it's friendly this time.
> 
> [between ODAF 11 and 12]

_December 17 th X778_

“Hey!”

When Gildarts saw the mysterious scruffy looking dude again, he dropped everything he was doing (okay, he was just drinking) to go talk to him.

He might have been plastered at the time—a tradition after returning to the guild from his long escapades—but he remembered that encounter with the strange mage. No human, mage or no, had ever blocked one of his punches so effortlessly before. Even when Gildarts was holding back, which was _often_ , they would still get sent flying back for their trouble.

Gildarts Clive had always had a predisposition for magic. It was hard to say whether it was ‘natural talent’ or the fact that he had always been drawn to it. Gildarts was a man easily bored with plenty of time on his hands, so when he began to practice the magic he stumbled upon, it grew and grew until he was destroying monuments and nature alike with single touches.

He loved to fight. It was one of the few things that Gildarts could get his blood pumping by; it was so _hard_ to find good challenges, however. Even SS-class monsters that could get a sweat out of him didn’t last too long.

His guildmates were an even more finicky affair—and even mages he has had to fight over the years. For some reason, they rarely could take more than two hits from Gildarts, if that. Yeah, Gildarts would still participate in the famous bar fights, and he would never say no to a challenge, but Gildarts could never go all out. He knew he was powerful, and he knew he was dangerous. While Gildarts didn’t want to insult his fellow mage by holding back, he knew deep down he had to.

It was why the very idea of this random guy who could take his punch excited him—and he was a guildmate no less! He realized that he had long since given up on the idea of a good friendly brawl until the possibility cropped up after all this time. It was a Christmas miracle! He was glad that he decided to come back to the guild instead of dawdling in Iceburg. Or some other country, because damn it had been cold there.

The man in question—Acnilogic or something, he honestly forgot—was outside of the guild, listening to one of the new kids and Natsu talk excitedly about some quest. He looked up at Gildarts at the call, raising a brow (wait, _was_ that an eyebrow?) inquisitively. “Oh. It’s you.”

Natsu spotted him as well. “Gildarts! You _are_ back!” The spunky kid launched himself at Gildarts, and he caught the kid with ease mid-air and held him in a gridlock, ruffling his hair.

“Heya, scamp.” Natsu was a good kid, full of fire and fight. He also wasn’t the most sociable type, so Gildarts wondered if he knew the mysterious man. “You met the new guy?”

“Oh, that’s Acno!” Natsu replied easily. “Wait, Acno, have you and Gildarts met?”

“Briefly.” The man, Acno, peered at Gildarts with focused eyes. Were his pupils slitted? Huh, it was kind of like Natsu’s—except somehow more intense.

There must have been something unspoken there, because Natsu turned to Acno as he was turning to leave. “Gildarts’ is cool,” he said reassuringly. “Anyway, Happy! Rogue! Let’s go!”

The kids scampered off, leaving Gildarts alone with Acno. He cleared his throat, unsure how to go about this. “I’m Gildarts,” he introduced, holding out his hand. “Sorry the first meeting was a little, _heh_ , unorthodox.”

He took his hand, and Gildarts was positively giddy at how solid the grip was—because Gildarts actually put some strength into this one. “I’m starting to get the feeling that’s how most things in the guild are,” the man commented wryly. “It’s Acnologia, by the way.”

Acno was easier to remember. “Hey, that’s the Fairy Tail spirit!”

“So…what is it that you want?”

Straight to the point! Gildarts was liking this guy more and more already. “Say, Acno—that thing you did in the guild the other day… Think you can do it again?”

He blinked. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You know, when I punched you.”

“You mean block it?” Acno gave a slight laugh, revealing a flash of sharp teeth. “Sure I can do it again. Can you punch any harder?”

Gildarts grinned widely. “Hell yeah I can.”

—o0o—

As tempting as it was to try it then and there, both men knew better than to start a fight in the middle of the town in front of the guildhall. It would decimate _something_ and Gildarts didn’t want Master getting onto him for more property damage. (It was all well and good when it was somewhere else, but they all tried to keep Magnolia somewhat in one piece.)

They went out to the middle of the woods, each meeting the other speedily, even when they were a couple miles out. Christmas had come early for Gildarts, and he was the kid on the Christmas morning. The guy not only agreed to fight him, but the fight looked promising. He was itching with anticipation.

There was one thing he wondered about that he wanted to know before-hand, though.

“So, what’s up with your magic signature? It’s super tiny I can hardly feel anything, but I know you must be packing.”

Acno huffed. “Right, that.” He pulled aside his cloak, revealing a golden band inscribed with runes that Gildarts might have been able to read if he ever bothered to learn runes. “I suppress it so I don’t broadcast my arrival all the time.”

“Ohhh that’s nifty.” It was true. Other mages in other towns didn’t get weirded out by him by presence alone. But Gildarts also never did stealth jobs, so it never mattered. And when he came home to Magnolia, they knew he was coming so they could implement the town-shift. “Can I see?”

He stared at him incredulously and then sighed. “Fine.”

He clipped it off.

“Holy shit.” It was like being hit in the face with a boulder—something Gildarts definitely had experience in. The dude wasn’t kidding when he said it was problematic, but it was also awesome. If there was any doubt that this guy was actually strong, it was gone now; hell, Gildarts was now wondering if he was _stronger_ than he was. That much magic, in one dude? It felt like Acno was supposed to be five times his size or something—this was the magic of a beast, not a man.

Acnologia returned the arm bracer, and the magic signature slowly fizzled out—or condensed itself, rather. “Happy?”

“Definitely.”

There was a moment of silence. A smarter man would have considered the next step or even the inevitable consequences of resulting actions, but Gildarts was not a smart man: he was a Fairy Tail mage.

So he shrugged and threw a punch.

Acno had fast reflexes, bringing a palm up to block the punch without needing the warning. Unlike last time, he grabbed his fist and twisted. The force was enough to send Gildarts hurdling towards the ground, but with a grin, he used it to kick the guy in the chest instead.

Even with the inevitable addition of his magic, the kick did nothing but elicit a small grunt from Acno, who followed with a grin and a kick of his own.

They only traded a few blows—not even with magic yet—when Acno stopped the fight. “What, tired already?” Gildarts pouted. He thought that was going well! Acno seemed fine, too…but Gildarts supposed crush magic could accidentally do some harm to the organs.

Instead, the blue haired mage gestured to the destroyed trees around them. “We’ll knock down the whole forest if we keep this up. I like this forest.”

“Oh shit, you’re right.” Sure, Gildarts wasn’t the type to pay too much attention to the collateral he caused, but was the rebound really that much? Huh. Wild.

Acno tilted his head and peered at Gildarts curiously. “You _are_ human, right?”

“Yeah, what else would I be. Heh, you’re one too, right bud?”

Acno laughed.

“You’re an interesting guy, Gildarts. Can’t say I’ve ever seen magic like yours.”

Gildarts could only shrug. “Same to you. Did you even _use_ magic during that?”

“…no.”

Man, he really _was_ outclassed, wasn’t he? It was hilarious. “Come on, man, you gotta give me more than that.”

The other mage only shrugged. “You didn’t use much either, aside from what you leaked. The forest wouldn’t have been able to handle it otherwise.”

“Screw the forest.”

“Hey, I live here.” He paused. “And so does Porlyusica for that matter.”

At _that_ , Gildarts shuddered. “Oh you’re right, that’s scary.” Porlyusica had the countenance of a grumpy hawk, and even without magic, Gildarts had the feeling the hag could do very creative and painful things with that broom. “Okay, but—round two sometime? Somewhere with less breakable stuff?”

Not only was Gildarts interested in what this guy could do, for magic-studying purposes, but it was so _rare_ that he was able to spar and build his own skills. It had been fun back when he was young and learning and able to approach challenges, but now things were just dull. Besides, if this guy was going to stick around Fairy Tail, it was nice to know that they were in good hands—especially with all of those kids now joining. He could make an argument that this wasn’t selfish, but for the guild. Yeah, that was it.

Acnologia huffed, but the corner of lips turned upward nonetheless. “Sure.”

—o0o—

_January 8 th X779_

Acnologia sensed Gildarts approaching long before he arrived. He wasn’t particularly in the mood to be bothered by extra humans today—like most days, honestly—but at least Gildarts was simple: he just wanted to fight.

It was a sentiment Acnologia understood. He himself had that side of him, though he had learned only after many years that it was dangerous when left to its own devices, like it had been. Didn’t mean he still didn’t enjoy the tussle from time to time, though he had long since stopped hunting dragons.

“Heeey, Acno~”

Acnologia set down the cup of black coffee (a discovery he wished he made sooner) and regarded the man at the stairs, looking more like a puppy as he did his best pleading face. Gildarts might have been the most powerful being that Acnologia had encountered this era, but damn, he was an idiot. It was convenient though because he didn’t ask any questions beyond the inevitable—

“You wanna fight?”

He was a little ashamed of himself that the answer was ‘yes,’ but the promise of a decent workout was too alluring. He was also curious about crush magic, because Acnologia actually knew nothing about it. Hell, it might be a newly discovered magic that this buffoon was sitting on. It was of no consequence though—it was dangerous, but Gildarts seemed to use it well.

Besides, he needed the warm-up—literally and figuratively. It was too busy to sleep this time of year, and he needed the stimulation not to. If Igneel could apparently fight off the desire for hibernation, then so could he. At least until things with the kids were settled and Sting was found.

“You got a place in mind?”

Gildarts waved a job flyer in the air. “I picked this 10-year quest up about some flower. It looked boring, so I never did it before, but it’s in these middle-of-nowhere mountains so I figured you could come along and we duke it out, then I’ll find this bad boy on the way back.”

“Which mountains?”

He squinted at the print. “Um, the Hako range—north side. It’s not near a train, though.”

“That’s not a problem,” he said quickly. Truthfully, he had never ridden on a train before, but they looked like a death trap. Carts were bad. Ships were bad. Trains looked like hell.

He didn’t recognize the Hako range by name, but he could find it on a map.

“So, uh… meet you there in what, a couple days?”

“Does it take you that long to walk there?”

Gildarts laughed. “Not really, not if I use magic. It depends on what I’m crossing through, really.”

“Same. Tomorrow, then?”

“You’re on.”

—o0o—

It turned out that that ‘middle-of-nowhere’ mountain range was _his_ middle-of-nowhere mountain range. Acnologia couldn’t keep up with all the changing of names of regions over the centuries, so who could blame him for not noticing until later?

It was true though—the Nirvit (Hako, whatever) mountains were sparse. Aside from his cave, not many other lifeforms resided there, save for animals and a few werewolves who mostly stuck to the bottom. If they stuck to the northwest, it should be fine.

He tracked Gildarts to some place in the middle. Only to startle him like a stray cat.

“Shit, dude where’d ya’ come from?!”

“From above.” He thought it was obvious when he jumped down for the mountain peak. “We should probably move westward—there’s a pack near here somewhere.”

Gildarts pouted. “Aw man, but I’ll need to be on the other side for my quest.”

The other side was where his cave was. Acnologia wouldn’t have cared or pried otherwise, but— “What do you even need for that quest anyway?”

“Uh, some rare snow flower. Apparently, experts are sure it still exists on some mountain peak, but everyone who tried a few years ago encountered some mysterious windstorm or shit and gave up. Or got knocked down the mountain and hospitalized. It looked pretty boring to me, so I ignored it until now, but the location seemed good for a fight.”

Snow flower… Oh shit. He knew what Gildarts was talking about—the Nirvitian Qingxin. It was used by the tribe long ago for medicinal purposes, and being an _extremely_ picky flower, it required techniques the tribe only knew. When they were wiped out, the flower began to die out as well.

Acnologia encountered them by chance. Back when the Montes Secreta traded when them, he had worked with the flower before, so he recognized the few who survived. He transplanted them near where he was staying and tended to them on the peak. His only output of them, so far, were the ones he gave to Porlyusica in her medicines, because while he wasn’t _trying_ to hoard them, they only just recovered as a species, and he had no other human associations.

There had been people who came near his mountain in the past; he always did his very best to discourage them from approaching. Was he too violent at times? Perhaps, but it was his mountain, and whatever weirdos kept going when he kicked up the wind were liable for more injuries.

This was going to be awkward. Acnologia had absolutely _zero_ intention on sharing the whereabouts of the cave with anyone from the guild, but Gildarts was going to set out for that flower and Acnologia wasn’t going to be there to knock bystanders away. Sure, he could pretend to leave and then circle back and stop Gildarts anonymously—it would be tougher than normal, but not impossible—but knowing this was a job offer? That was problematic. Acnologia would rather a guildmate from Fairy Tail stumble across his garden rather than some random wastrel. Besides, Gildarts could be dense enough not to question too intensely why his previous dwelling was a cave.

“Actually,” Acnologia interjected, trying to bite back the groan. “I know where those flowers are.”

“That’s neat,” Gildarts said, “you can point me in the right direction, and I can finish this job in a jiffy.”

“No.” How did he word this without being incriminating? Never mind, fuck that, he was keeping his stuff safe. “They’re _my_ flowers. That’s my garden. I can give you some, but those little shits are hard to grow, so don’t mess them up.”

Gildarts blinked at him. “But you live in Magnolia.”

“I do now. I used to live in these mountains.”

“Oh, like a cabin or something?” he asked in lieu of questioning why he had the garden.

“Something like that.”

Thank the skies Gildarts was an idiot.

With much reluctance, Acnologia led the man to the garden. It needed the snowy climate and high altitude, so it was on top of his mountain, gratefully, and not inside the cave. Though even if it was, he somehow doubted Gildarts would have thought much of it. At this point, it was mostly empty not because that was how it was for decades, but because most everything was at the house now, save for the firepit and a few pieces of cooking ware. (Because it was still his cave, and he had every intention of using it in case he needed to lay low or avoid people for a while, and the kids were free to use it the same way.)

He carefully cut one from a bush and handed it to Gildarts. “Tell them it was on private property; I don’t want people tramping through my gardens. Please.”

“Yeah, sure.” Gildarts was pouting, though, looking around the mountain. “There was no snowstorm or monster though.”

Definitely an idiot. “The snowstorm was me. To keep out intruders.”

“Ohhhhh you have snow magic?”

“No, air.”

Gildarts laughed. “Never met an air mage built like a tank like you.”

Heh, that was strange, wasn’t it? He never met a dragon before, that was for sure. “First time for everything.”

“So, can we fight now?”

“As long as it’s nowhere near my garden.”

—o0o—

The fight was…something else, to be sure. A little exhilarating, to be honest, and that was a feeling Acnologia didn’t know he could experience fighting anything other than a dragon, or perhaps a god.

Without being imbued with dragon slayer magic, there was little Gildarts could do to his physical form, but crush magic was the art of destroying magic, and as an ether dragon, it was a wild encounter. Blow for blow, spell for spell, they could collide and cancel each other out. The spar was more testing than an actual fight, but that was how spars should be.

It was clear that Gildarts was also cursed with the reality that he could never give his all without eminent death, though Acnologia would most likely be the exemption. It was something he knew well, a dragon walking among humans. Everything was fragile, and fragile things died quickly. It took them a while to amp up blows, even with the intention of doing so from the beginning.

Finally, Gildarts held up an arm, panting. Even Acnologia was feeling the strain of his lungs and the flow of his blood. “I think I’m good for now. It’s cold up here.”

“Yeah.” The cold did make for more difficult movement.

Acnologia rolled his shoulder, feeling it crack in satisfaction. That _empyrean_ spell had been a doozy, even causing Acnologia to give some ground and be thrown backwards. “It was a good workout though.”

Gildarts grinned. “You bet!”

The sun was already going down. How long had they been at this?

“Um.” Gildarts scratched the back of his neck. “So, uh, I think I need another flower.”

He sighed. That was annoying, but it figured. They hadn’t paid much mind to collateral out here in the forlorn mountains. Speaking of which— “Huh.”

“What?”

Acnologia knew these mountains well. Very well, for them to be his hunting grounds. Even this far out, he knew the landscape—so he noticed the vast changes now made. He doubted anyone else was as familiar, not here, but it was still something to be considered. “Think anyone would notice a missing mountain?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Actually writing the fight scared me, so have the aftermath, heheh...


	7. Dragons' First Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Christmas of the year X778 in the house of the dragons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas (eve)! And Happy Holidays! 
> 
> I wasn't originally planning on doing this, and then I realized that somehow, the in-story dates and the real-world dates were similar, and I got this idea. 
> 
> It's a bit of free-form writing, especially at the end there, but I wanted to roll this out for the 25th and I plan on spending Christmas day with family and not writing, so here it is. (Hopefully, the fact that I wrote this doesn't impede on my ability to get the main chapter up on time, heheh.)
> 
> [between ODAF 11 and 12]

_December 13, X778_

“What the _hell_ are they doing?”

Acnologia had been hearing all that… _noise_ …all day, so the first kid who returned from town and stepped half a foot in the house got the ire of all his questioning. It was Wendy, Natsu, and Happy so he felt a little bad at the wide-eyed look the six-year-old gave him, but both of them surely knew his irritation wasn’t with them.

“Who…?” Wendy asked.

Right, clarification. “I don’t know, Magnolia? I’ve been hearing their crash fest all day.” Frankly, he’s been scared to get closer.

“Oh! They’re decorating!”

…what?

“Magnolia decorates for Christmas every year,” Natsu explained. “Fairy Tail always helps.”

“Fairy Tail. That explains it.”

“Aye! Wait…what’s Christmas again?” Happy blinked owlishly from Natsu to Acnologia and back.

“Oh right, this is your first one,” Natsu remembered. “It’s, uh, it’s a festival of cooking and racing and family and stuff. Wait, do they cook anymore…?”

“Um,” Wendy started. “Mr. Roubaul said it was about family and full of singing and hot chocolate.”

Right. Christmas. It was a long-lasting holiday, but it changed and evolved just like anything else did. “Natsu, I think you’re thinking of the Festival of Marathons. Wait, Natsu, are you from Desierto?”

It occurred to Acnologia that while Natsu sometimes mentioned his family before Igneel, he never placed where it was. Desierto made sense, actually. Small population, hot and dry climate…nearly completely wiped out by dragons during the war. He believed they have recovered, but it was still quite the blow.

“Oh, yeah, that’s what it was called!”

Happy raised his paw sheepishly. “We don’t have to run a marathon, do we?” For a kitten who flew ninety percent of the time, he seemed very distraught at the idea.

“No,” Acnologia responded, not missing how Natsu was starting to get that far-off homesick look again. He imagined the holiday season was stirring it up again. “That’s an old tradition from another country, celebrating how their soldiers once ran home for the feasts. Fiore doesn’t celebrate that, but they do cook and sing and…whatever. I’ll be honest, I’ve ignored it most years.”

At this, Wendy looked disappointed. Acnologia briefly considered finding an excuse to leave now lest he be wrapped into whatever Wendy asked for, but he was already looking at her when she began to speak. “Um, is it still okay if we want to celebrate Christmas? I really want to see what it’s like with a real family…”

Damnit. Consider his heart impaled. “Yeah, that’s okay.”

Her face lit up, and she crashed into his leg. “Thank you!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

_December 24, X778_

“Ac-nii, are you coming to the guild party?”

“Ha, no.”

Before Wendy had the chance to get too sad about it, Gajeel placed a hand on her head and ruffled her hair. “You know loud things isn’t his style, squirt. Besides, the real fun happens tomorrow, right?”

It was amazing how quickly the moods of children changed, and Wendy was smiling again. “Right!”

Natsu bounced at the door. “Anyways, byeeee!”

“Bye!” Happy echoed.

“See ya,” Gajeel saluted, halfway gone.

Rogue just waved.

“We’ll be back tonight,” Wendy assured while hugging him, as if he was worried.

“I’ll make sure of it,” Charle added.

“Yeah, whatever, go have fun.”

He watched them go with bewilderment and fondness. A part of him still couldn’t believe they had gotten to this point. As soon as they were out of sight and out of hearing range, Acnologia left the house himself. The kids were putting effort into this, he knew, so he would too. Time to get to work.

_December 25, X778_

Christmas was an adaptive and diverse holiday throughout history and across cultures, so it made sense that the holiday was spent in split traditions in the house of the time-forsaken dragon slayers. It was more-so muddled by the fact that none in the house were experienced on the matter.

Dragons did not celebrate Christmas. They were not without holidays, but unless they were with humans, the holiday in the bleak mid-winter went unnoticed in light of hibernation and the solitude of non-mating season.

When the kids were young and in the care of their dragons, the season was not a priority, or even something that was on the forefront of anyone’s mind. Anna would bake cookies if she was nearby at the time, but it wasn’t a constant thing. Natsu was the only one with prior experience, but time sensitivity was something he lacked. Holidays are only truly made meaningful by solidarity, anyway. Then to the younger ones, it was a precept unknown to them entirely.

But now, in the eighth recorded century of Earthland, it was time to begin tradition anew.

Like with any new endeavor that required some level of cooperation and foresight, this was preformed with much chaos.

“Wake uuuuuppppppp!”

“…no.”

“Come on, you said you wouullllld!”

“Natsu.”

“Huh?”

“It’s four a.m.”

The twelve-year-old blinked owlishly. “But you gotta’ start early for the race.”

Acnologia, in tired resignation, sat up. The eldest dragon slayer had fallen asleep in human form the previous night, so the younger slayer could surely see his clueless expression, despite the darkness. “What?”

“We each pick a tradition, right? I wanna do the homecoming lunch.”

Acnologia followed him into the common area, flicking on the lighting lacrima, because for some forsaken reason, everyone was awake.

In their first attempt to celebrate a holiday together, it was decided that everyone would bring an idea to the table. It was the best they could do, and in the safety of their secrets, it was closest the beset dragon slayers could cope with their upbringings and histories and find comfort in them.

As such, Acnologia would not begrudge Natsu his request.

But he had concerns about leaving him in the kitchen unsupervised.

“Alright,” he yawned. “What am I supposed to do?” He had heard of Desierto’s old traditions in passing, but he was no expert.

“Uh, you’re the leader of the house, so you run the marathon, and then we have lunch when you get back.”

“A marathon?”

“Twenty-six miles,” Rogue clarified. He had no idea how he knew that information, but Rogue was a sponge of many odd things.

Natsu scratched his neck. “I think they did less back home, but I’m not sure.”

“That’s really far, right?” Happy asked.

“Yeah,” Rogue replied.

“Twenty-six miles is fine,” Acnologia said. “But it will be a ‘homecoming breakfast’ if you want me to do it now.” Earlier, truly, but he could dally if the kids needed it.

“But, it takes like all morning— ohhhh right, you’re super fast.” For all the planning Natsu put into this, he missed a few details, but Acnologia was glad he was thinking at all. “Breakfast is fine, then.”

“Okay. Don’t burn down the kitchen.” Though he was talking to Natsu, he snuck a look at Gajeel and Charle to ensure that this would be enforced. He got a thumb’s up and a curt nod in turn.

Twenty-six miles and a very casual and slow stroll through the woods later, it was eight in the morning and Acnologia determined that if they weren’t ready now, then the kitchen really had burned down.

Fortunately, the only thing that was burnt was the food. Natsu was the happiest he’s been all month, however, so that was what truly mattered.

Gajeel spoke nothing of the old Minstrel traditions, but that was to be expected. Acnologia had forgotten them, too, though neither had ever truly anticipated. Instead, it was what he observed in Denish that he wanted to try.

Acnologia would emphasize _try,_ but at least he had enthusiasm.

“Yeah, I learned how to play from this ol’ street musician,” Gajeel insisted, some old guitar he had in his hands. “I think I know some Christmas songs, so why not?”

There were plenty of reasons, but no one voiced them as Gajeel sang, listening in mixtures of awe and horror. Acnologia was sorely tempted to cast _dead air_ , at least around himself, but Gajeel didn’t know but half of the lyrics to “Jingle Bells” so it wasn’t a terribly long experience.

“That was…” Wendy began.

“Awful,” Natsu finished.

“Hey! You don’t know good music if it slapped you in the face!”

“Yeah, well I don’t think it’s supposed to sound like—”

“Gajeel,” Acnologia interrupted, in order to forego any brawl. “I say this as delicately as I can—your… singing needs work.”

“Heh, I thought it was pretty good, but I guess I couldn’t tighten it up—add some scrat—”

“Let me re-phrase: it’s a crime against nature, just like Natsu’s bacon. _But,_ guitar was good.”

After a brief moment of silence, laughter erupted, and Gajeel declared that playing the guitar took more talent anyway.

Rogue was simple: he wanted to roast marshmallows.

They made a fire outside, and the boy had already procured a bag of the stuff, and it didn’t take too long to find sticks. “I heard someone talk about it,” Rogue explained. “And marshmallows are already amazing, and this is supposed to be even better.”

Truthfully, Acnologia had had neither, but he deferred to Rogue’s wish.

“Um,” Wendy said. “I, uh, know Natsu likes it like that, but Rogue your…”

Gajeel stared incredulously. “Your marshmallow is all black.”

Rogue froze mid-bite, completely unphased. “Yeah?”

“You like that?”

The small boy smiled. “It tastes like shadows.”

Wendy, for being the one to kick-start this entire event, was shy about sharing hers.

“Can we, um… Can we read a story…?”

She had a book and everything. It was a short one, too, which was nice. “Sure.”

Wendy handed the book to him. “Um, some of the words are hard…”

“Yeah, I got it.”

Acnologia sat down with the book, and Wendy sat at his side, looking at the pictures eagerly. Rogue was perched on the back of the couch, eyes on the pages as well, and Natsu and Gajeel sat cross-legged on the floor, Happy on Natsu’s head and Charle beside them.

Skimming the words, he had no idea what the story was about, but it was what Wendy wanted. “Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house…”

Happy was the most predicable.

“Fish!” He raised his paw. “I want lots of fish!”

“We can have fish for dinner.” Acnologia had suspected as much and caught some the previous day and put them on ice.

“Yay!”

Charle was not one for frivolous things, but even she seemed to have a desire, though they had to pull it out of her.

“It’s nothing, really.”

“Come on, Charle,” Wendy pleaded. “Everyone should get to do something fun on Christmas!”

Finally, the white cat spoke, twisting a tuft of fur around her claw. “Candles are nice…”

“Candles it is.”

They turned off all the lacrimas and lined the counters with candles. It was surprisingly peaceful.

“Ac-nii?” Wendy tugged his sleeve. “You didn’t do anything.”

All eyes were on him with interest. “Yeah, that’s right,” Natsu said.

Acnologia had a feeling it would come to this, and it was sweet that the kids worried over him. Truthfully, he _was_ prepared, not only because he feared hurting their feelings by not participating to the fullest, but also because the ordeal had made him nostalgic. In the past ten months of being a caretaker to young ones, he had remembered memories and feelings he thought were impossible to return.

“It’s more fun at night,” he explained. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

They gathered outside, and Acnologia pulled some pieces of intricately cut paper. They resembled stylized stars, though they were poorly made in his rustiness and his haste. It was good enough, however; he was amazed he remembered at all.

“There was a legend,” he began, “back in my home before I was a dragon slayer.”

The kids listened in rapt attention. He was aware that, while he shared some bits of information when relevant, this was the first story he gave to them of his past. “It went that long ago, before the recording of time, there were no stars. The world was dark, and the beings of earth labored blindly, unable take the heat of the sun yet unable to navigate in the night. A celestial—one of the gods, as they would be called later—took pity on the humans. Her name was Polaris. She tried to light up the sky, but she could only reach one land at a time, and she grew weary as well.

“One day, her heart breaking at the struggles of creatures, she sacrificed her body. It split apart into millions of particles of lights, and those became the stars.

“Montes Secreta was a mountainous island, and fishing and farming was their livelihood. We relied on the stars for much, so once a year, when the stars were brightest, we honored the sacrifice of Polaris by sending paper and lanterns into the sky. Those skilled in magic would cast theirs first, and the dragons would light the rest.”

Acnologia lit the first with magic. It was the first spark to carry the history of his old homeland in hundreds of years, and it was the spark that represented the new home he never thought he would have again. The paper star glowed a brilliant white, and it floated into the night sky.

“Woah…”

The awe in the eyes of his kids was far brighter.

* * *

_“Home’s with you this year, so hear us say: make a memory. This holiday, we’ll be family.”_

—Broadway cast of _Fun Home_ , “Home’s with You”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My lovely dragon family :')
> 
> Unfortunately Sting missed this one, cause he gotta be a January boy, but if anyone asks, he would have taken his marshmallows not charred at all, and he would be a snowball fight kind of kid. Next year, dear Sting, next year...


	8. Meeting Mystogan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Acnologia meets Mystogan, and Wendy finds him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually wrote this in two parts, but I thought it was easier to upload them into one chapter, because neither half is long, and it's mostly continuous anyway. 
> 
> Mystogan is one of my favorite characters in the series, despite getting little to no screentime (though yay 100 years quest!). Maybe it's the allure of the introvert version of Jellal, lol. 
> 
> (I'll write the other scenes, too, I swear, but I got distracted by my boi so this ended up being the first one completed, whoops.)
> 
> [post-ODAF]

_April 3, X779_

Acnologia had grown to know many members of the guild, though most of them was only in passing, knowing their magic and maybe their name. It was only the people the kids associated with and the homebodies of the guild house he ended up becoming familiar with. Not that he was at the guild house often, or for long stretches of time. He could tolerate fifteen to thirty minute increments to get a job and to listen to whatever the kids wanted to show him. If it was not crowded, it wasn’t that bad, but usually, if someone needed him for something, they could find him elsewhere—and truly, only the people he tolerated got to know where they lived.

People came and went, and Acnologia didn’t pay them much mind. As long as he was not led to believe they would pose a threat, he wasn’t nosy.

However, when the cloaked kid snuck in through the side door, making a beeline to the job board with an adequate but not perfect invisibility spell, Acnologia did notice. Aside from the attempt at secrecy—which, while suspicious, Acnologia understood—there were two things that stood out to him: one, his magic did not originate from him, though it ran through him, and two, he was bleeding.

Fairy Tail, Acnologia learned, was full of reckless people. They were allowed their recklessness, however, because Acnologia would not mother them. Much. The kids (his and the others) were just as bad, if not worse, but he wouldn’t let them sit with wounds they could not handle. He had even tended to Gray before, crass as that kid was, because Acnologia wouldn’t see anyone get an infection on his watch.

(It should be noted that every guildmate was infinitely happier if Wendy was the one who noticed first, because she was gentle and kind and sky magic even eased the pain; Acnologia, however, came with grunts and lectures.)

If this kid was taking a job, then Acnologia doubted he had any intention of tending to his wound. Although, as he sniffed it further, it didn’t seem fresh—poorly dressed and reopened was a better description of the aged smell the blood had. Acnologia respected people’s privacy, but he was a medic with standards, and Fairy Tail was too reckless to be sensible half the time. With a sigh, Acnologia stood and intercepted the kid as soon as he tried to slip out of the building.

“I know you’re wounded. Let me see it.”

The boy startled, eyes widening behind his invisibility spell. “You can see me?”

“Yeah, but it’s not a half-bad spell. You have two choices: let me see the wound now, or let me see it somewhere else.” Too bad for him, invisibility meant nothing to the other senses, and dragon eyes were keener than most anyway. If the kid wanted privacy, fine, but Acnologia wasn’t going to sit there and let him get an infection out of neglect.

“Oh.” The invisibility spell faded away, leaving only a scraggly teen with long sleeves, a cloak, and a mask that covered his nose and mouth and a cloth around his head. A few strands of blue hair peaked out underneath, and more curiously, a twist of red was just visible on his cheek.

He took in Acnologia with the same keen brevity a lost cat took in a stranger. His dark eyes rested quickly on the spot below his arm, where Acnologia’s guild mark was visible above the sleeveless shirt was wearing. That seemed to calm him. “You’re a Fairy Tail medic?”

“I’m a Fairy Tail mage who happens to be a healer.” Stars forbid he took Porlyusica’s job, because she would make him have it. “Now, you don’t need to tell me what you were doing, but I would like to close that for you if you’re planning on running off and making it worse.”

“Right…” He cradled his arm, which now that Acnologia was close, was the clear location of the wound. “Thank you. Can we…” His eyes flicked toward the guild house. “Go somewhere else?”

Acnologia wondered if this kid was a Fairy Tail mage at all, with how secretive he was, but then again, a Fairy Tail mage _would_ be this odd. Regardless, it wasn’t his problem; it was a kid about Natsu’s or Gajeel’s age that was hurt, and that was that.

“Sure,” he replied with a shrug. It was one of his options anyway. “Lead the way.”

The kid only moved behind the building, closer to the woods. It was quiet back there, though, with little to no foot traffic. It was close enough to the guild hall to be lacking in any ill intent, so chances were, he really was a Fairy Tail mage. This was confirmed when the boy hesitantly removed his shirt, revealing both a dirty bandage around his upper arm and shoulder, and a black fairy resting on his pectoral.

He said nothing, only held his arm out shakily and averted his gaze.

Acnologia quickly supported the arm by holding his forearm, lest he strain his wounded shoulder even more, before slowly unwrapping the bandages. It wasn’t terrible, but the gash extended from mid-tricep to the tip of his shoulder. It also was beginning to sour, the blood thick and lethargic as it sat stagnant. It already needed cleaning before he could close it.

 _“Purify,”_ Acnologia cast, causing the air to remove the impurities. He knew it stung from experience, but the kid took it with only a slight flinch, nearly imperceptible to someone who wasn’t watching for response. It was one of the drawbacks of pure air-based healing magic, since it involved more physical remedies than the strengthening enchantments of sky healing magic. It did its job, however.

Satisfied with that stage, Acnologia held out his palm and closed the gash. It was small enough that his magic could mend the tissue without scarring, but some had already begun to occur beforehand, leaving a small trace behind. He noticed the scar was not without company; despite his age, he already gained an impressive collection across his arms and torso. Most did not look overly serious, but some were many years old. Acnologia knew better than to pry, but a flash of pity and understanding flashed through him on behalf of the strange boy nonetheless.

“Remember to clean or replace your bandages daily, if you can,” he told him, nose wrinkling as he disposed of the old ones. “And don’t do stupid stunts if you’re injured.” It was a wonder how some of these kids maintained their limbs.

“Thank you,” the boy said quietly. “I’ll do my best.”

The job was done, but Acnologia hovered still. There was something else about the teen that bothered him, but it was more of an issue of curiosity. It was the way he used magic. He noticed it again when the kid grabbed his stave and strapped it back to his back. It wasn’t merely the fact that he only used magic items—thousands of civilians used magic items without magic of their own every day. Rather, it was how the magic interacted with his body.

He had seen it once before. So _that’s_ what he was. It was still peculiar though, but Acnologia would not say anything without cause.

Acnologia was prepared to part ways with the mysterious injury prone boy when the reason he had come to the guild today came running towards them. He was proud that Wendy had managed to sniff him out from here, though the kid stiffened as she approached.

However, when Wendy got closer, she ignored Acnologia almost entirely, her wide brown eyes fixed on the teen. Before he could comprehend it, the seven-year-old threw herself at him with a joyous squeal. “Jellal!”

—o0o—

Once, he was Jellal Edolas, then he was just Jellal, and then he was Mystogan, but he didn’t mind. Being Mystogan was easier. More comfortable. Yes, the shadows of his past still haunted him, and he had to be more careful than most, lest he be confused with his Earthland counterpart, but it was simpler keeping to himself.

Fairy Tail had been a lucky find, and it helped him survive and he was forever grateful, but Mystogan was not on Earthland to make friends. He couldn’t. He had a duty to clean up after his father and his land to save this one; it was a traitorous duty, but it was his. Mystogan wouldn’t pretend he deserved to be loved in a world that was in danger because of his homeland.

But it was tempting. Fairy Tail was so welcoming and so unquestioning, it made him want to be around, even if he was just watching. He knew it was dangerous, and they were the last people he wanted involved in his problems, and he knew that the sight of him could likely send Erza to a bad place, if the Master’s words were any indication, that day he joined the guild.

Mystogan did not dislike people, especially the quiet ones with calming presences, but he valued their safety above his own and his happiness.

It was the biggest reason that he left Wendy, the lonely girl without a family he met when he was just a lonely boy without a home, in the care of that kind old man’s guild. He would not have her hurt by his mission. It had been a sudden and rough goodbye, but it was necessary, and everyday he hoped she forgave him even if he didn’t deserve it.

That was why, when Wendy had run to him, “Jellal” on her lips and a fairy emblem on her arm, he had been shocked to inaction. Never had he considered such a thing possible, and it was terrifying and so, _so_ wonderful at the same time. She was as affectionate now as she was when she was five, and nearly as small but they had both grown, and he caught her mid-air with ease, especially now with his arm not threatening to tear itself with each movement.

“Hey Wendy,” he smiled, and it felt genuine even beneath the mask.

“Where’d you go?” Wendy asked after pulling back, and the worry in her eyes hurt his heart. “You never came back, and…and…”

Oh no, he had hurt her, just like he swore he wouldn’t do. He had been an idiot. Wendy was alone because she had been abandoned, and then he abandoned her _again_. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I thought you would be better off in a guild than with me.”

Wendy grabbed him tighter. Her grip strength had certainly increased. “I—I _do_ like being in a guild, but… Why couldn’t you come too?”

He really messed up, didn’t he? “I’m sorry,” he repeated, feeling useless while he did so.

Still holding him onto him, unwilling to let him go, she peeked upward at him. “You could join Fairy Tail?” she suggested shyly.

Mystogan couldn’t help but to laugh once. “I’m actually…already in Fairy Tail.”

The discovery made Wendy squeal with joy. “We’re in the same guild! We can go on jobs together, and eat lunch and—you’re not leaving again, right?”

He would always need to leave. Whenever the Anima activated, he would be called away, and he didn’t belong there anyway. But…Fairy Tail was easy to come back to. So was Wendy, the first friend and sister he ever had. “No, I won’t.”

It was then, Wendy still buried in his torso, Mystogan looked up and realized that the other mage was still there. His eyes were as intense as they were steady, watching them with scrutiny. Mystogan wanted to hide from the gaze, aware now that his secrets were slipping, but the mage had been able to see through his magic items, so it was useless. He also wouldn’t leave Wendy.

That mage had been helpful, though, gruff as he was. He reminded Mystogan of Pantherlily, which eased him, but he was also a stranger. It was a hard line to find.

“So you’re Jellal, huh?”

Whatever peaceable relation Mystogan had—or would have had—with the healing mage was vanishing into the air. How did he explain? He probably thought Mystogan was a terrible person, and that he hurt Erza, but how did he fix it without making it worse? Mystogan…wanted to stay in this guild. It was playing with fire, and it was selfish, but it was the first place he enjoyed coming back to and he didn’t want to give that up, but he didn’t know _how to fix this_ —

“The one Wendy talked so much about?”

Mystogan stopped. He released a shaky breath. “I—yes?”

The mage’s gaze had softened some, and it was more like Lily’s, and it was easier to hold. The mage wasn’t mistaking him for the Earthland Jellal. It was okay…but he still looked upset.

He raised a steady eyebrow—if that was an eyebrow—at him. “You left a five-year-old alone with a stranger.”

That…that was bad, when he put it that way. “You’re right. That was foolish of me.”

“He wasn’t even alive.”

Mystogan snapped his head upward, whiplashed. “What?”

“The Nirvit—he was a ghost. A good ghost, I’ll hand it to you, but he was a fucking ghost.”

He ducked his head again, keeping his gaze trained to the ground. A ghost? Was that possible on Earthland? He hadn’t considered the possibility. How could one tell those things? He probably hadn’t been paying close attention. It was all his fault. What if Wendy had suffered there? Had been unhappy? Is that why she was here, now? At least someone had found her, and she was safe now, no thanks to him.

“Hey, breathe,” the mage commanded.

Mystogan found the breath he didn’t realize he missed. “I’m sorry. I should… I should have done better.”

Wendy hadn’t left, but she did twist her head back at the healing mage. “It’s okay, Acno,” she said. “Jellal was just trying to help me, and Master Roubaul was still really nice.”

The mage—Acno—made a noise of some sort in the back of his throat. He still didn’t sound pleased, and when Mystogan snuck another glance at him, he was frowning.

“How old are you, anyway?” Acno asked, completely unrelated to the current topic.

Or, maybe, this was just him confirming that Mystogan should have done better. It was hard to tell. “Fourteen.” Wait, when was it? It was April, now, wasn’t it? “Uh, f-fifteen.”

“You were just a kid, too.”

Mystogan looked back at the man, who closed his drilling eyes with a pinch of his nose. What did he mean, though? Just a kid? There was no such thing for a prince, but then, maybe he was given slack now because nobody on Earthland knew what he was—had been, rather.

Acno sighed, opening his eyes again. “Just…always remember to be cautious, okay? Both of you.”

“We will, Acno,” Wendy promised easily.

Mystogan’s head was still spinning. That had gone better than he expected, but it was hard to remove himself from the edge. Wendy being there helped, somehow, and the fact that he was beginning to grow sure that Acno didn’t hate him.

“Wait.”

Acno stopped mid-step as he was leaving.

“Uh, Jellal isn’t my name. Or, it was, but I go by Mystogan now.”

Wendy was giving him the confused look he expected, but Acno just nodded. It was strange, but it was something Fairy Tail did so easily.

“Okay…” Wendy said slowly. “Is there something wrong with Jellal?”

Mystogan was preparing a way to explain when Acno beat him to it. “It’s because he’s from Edolas, and there’s another Jellal here. Correct?”

 _That_ he wasn’t expecting. Only the Master knew… “Wha—? How…?”

Acno huffed a laugh. “Don’t worry about it, your secret is safe with us. I know someone else from Edolas, that’s all.”

Someone else?

“Edolas…?” Wendy questioned. “Is that another country?”

“It’s…another world. With people who look like people here, except they’re different,” Mystogan said, using the explanation he had tried to prepare for moments like this, though it was easier when it was just Wendy. “I’m the Jellal from Edolas, but there’s a Jellal in Earthland that looks just like me, but he’s…not a good person.” Mystogan wasn’t sure he was either, but at least he never _meant_ to hurt people. Not directly.

“Master told me,” he continued, feeling the need to explain to the two people who now knew both his names. “The other Jellal hurt Erza, and I don’t want her to think I’m him. But it’s okay, because I like Mystogan better anyway.” Less bad memories attached to the name.

Wendy nodded slowly.

Acno furrowed his brow. “And the other Jellal is…what, just out there somewhere?”

Mystogan shrugged, aware his information wasn’t helpful. It wasn’t his story to tell, though. “I don’t know much, but I don’t think it’s likely for him to come here, from the sound of it. Still, I don’t want to get mixed up with him.”

“Hm.” Acno accepted the answer with a grunt. “Very well then, Mystogan.”

“Don’t worry, Mystogan,” Wendy smiled. “Nobody will think you’re the bad Jellal.”

Just like when she was five, her smile was infectious. “Thank you.”

Yes, it was dangerous, but Fairy Tail really did feel like a home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: *begins writing Mystogan*  
> Author brain: Sad boi stick?  
> Me: Well yeah but--whoa that's a big stick  
> *remembers what we know about Mystogan; headcannons begin to slide together*  
> Me: Oh. Oh NO. Sorry baby, big sad boi stick it is.
> 
> Also, I needed this to set up the next story a tad, but I'm really just here for the proper Wendy-Mystogan friendship we were robbed of.


	9. Natsu's Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natsu was never very good at keeping secrets. Not from his closest friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going back a little to the year X778 to hit Natsu with the sad boi stick. Poor boy really is having a helluva identity crisis post-memory-restoration. Doesn't help that when you look up 'demons' and 'Zeref' in your local library you just get a bunch of scary human history.
> 
> [between ODAF 8 and 9]

Natsu was not a complicated person. He loved his friends, he loved his dad, and he knew that it was important to grow stronger and always do the right thing. That’s just the way things were. Because he knew those things, he knew that Igneel was out there somewhere, because Igneel was his dad and he loved him, and Igneel was strong—too strong to die without a fight.

That was why Natsu had been confused when, once when he was asking people in the guild about Igneel, that slanty-eyed annoying ice mage shook his head. _“Ignorance is bliss,”_ Gray had said. _“Don’t go looking for disappointment.”_

Natsu didn’t know what Gray had meant, so he assumed Snowflake had just been stupid at the time.

Natsu didn’t know what he meant, until that night days ago, when Natsu remembered everything. He had been happy just knowing that he was a fire dragon slayer, and that Igneel was his dad, and that he was a Fairy Tail mage—and all of those things were still true. But now, he remembered Mama and Papa, and he remembered that they were dead; he remembered his big brother, and that Zeref raised him from the dead to be a demon just to leave him.

His simple outlook on life was getting muddled very quickly.

He didn’t think he needed much to have his footing in life until it was crumbling beneath him, and everything he didn’t know he built crumbling with it.

“Hey Master, there’s a library here, right?”

Master Makarov opened one eye out of his previous meditative watching-the-guild state. “Yes? But it’s for reading and research, Natsu.”

“Yeah I know.”

There was a moment of surprised silence. “Well then.” Master cleared his throat. “The library is around the corner and down the stairs. Do pay mind to keep things in the same place, okay?”

“Okay.”

Natsu wasn’t sure why Gramps was acting so weird about it. Yeah, it was Natsu’s first time going there, but it wasn’t like he didn’t know what it was for. Still, he heard a soft _“he really **did** hit his head pretty hard” _underneath the master’s breath, so Natsu ducked his head and headed for the library faster.

Since he first got separated from Igneel—since he came to this…this _time_ —Natsu had not paid attention to much that didn’t pertain to his search for Igneel, but he _wasn’t_ completely dumb. He knew some things. Like how demons were evil and scary, and one of the jobs of mages and mage guilds was to go beat them up.

At the time, it had been a fun fact; now, it was a confusing and a frightening problem, because Natsu was a guild mage _and_ a demon, and he really, _really_ wanted to stay in Fairy Tail.

There’s a new, floating memory of his brother, always saying “research is the key to success” (something Natsu remembered him saying to get out of doing things and go read more books) but he might as well try it now. That dragon that saved him in the forest would probably have more answers to Natsu’s new questions, but he wasn’t here right now, and Natsu wasn’t actually sure he knew how to find him. All he remembered was it being a mountain, which wasn’t as helpful in Fiore as he thought it would be.

(It would have been helpful information back where he grew up the first time, among the deserts and the plains, but it wasn’t here.)

Checking to make sure he was alone (he made sure Happy was asleep just for this), and keeping Igneel’s training in careful mind of always keeping an eye, ear, and nose out for trouble, Natsu got to work in the library, picking up anything he could find on demons…and on Zeref.

By the end of the day, Natsu had a good idea of why Acno had told him to keep his demon-ness a secret, and why he shouldn’t look for his brother.

He had research, but no idea what to do with any of it; despite this Natsu didn’t feel successful _or_ blissful.

—o0o—

Another few days passed, and Natsu still didn’t know what to do. He tried to ignore it—to just forget he was a demon, or that his big brother was a bad guy—but something would come up, a phrase of conversation or a random memory, and Natsu was still tied up in knots about it.

He wished Igneel was here. Igneel knew about this, he was _positive_ , and Igneel still loved Natsu…right? That other dragon, Acno, didn’t seem bothered by it either. Maybe dragons had a better history with demons than humans did. Or maybe, it was a ‘now’ thing. He was fuzzy on the details, but maybe…there were demons in the place he grew up? He wasn’t sure how valid the memory was, because some things were clearer from that time than others. They might have just been another species, or just funny-looking humans, and he was just getting his hopes up for nothing.

Nobody liked demons anymore—if they did at all—because demons did nasty things. Natsu would have been convinced he was just as bad if it weren’t for the fact that Igneel taught to always strike the bad things down, and Natsu was still alive. That meant something…right?

The guilt still lingered. Maybe he should leave Fairy Tail, which was awful, because he really loved Fairy Tail, despite everything he said when he first came and he was still thinking Igneel would come right back, but Igneel was last seen four hundred years ago, and there was…too much that could have happened to him.

He could try to go find Zeref. Every book said that Zeref was dead now, or at least mostly dead, but somehow Natsu was convinced he wasn’t. He had mentioned that curse anyway, and something about immortality, back when Zeref had tried to explain things to Natsu and Natsu screamed at him instead. (Maybe it was his fault Zeref left him; maybe it was his fault that Zeref went insane and turned evil, without Natsu there to make him stop.)

“Natsu…”

He realized he was just doing nothing but thinking again—even in the cozy spot in the woods that was supposed to be a good place—and looked up. Happy was staring at him funny.

“You’re crying again…”

Natsu jolted, feeling his face with his hand and furiously scrubbing everything away. Damnit! “I wasn’t crying!”

Happy frowned, sidling up closer to him and pressing his fuzzy kitten side against him. “You were. Are you sad?”

Was he? Of course, not; he couldn’t be…right? There was nothing to be sad over. He was just confused. So why did he feel so bad? “I…don’t know.”

“Don’t be sad, Natsu! I’m here!”

That _was_ true. Happy was Happy, so it was hard to be sad with his best cat friend around. (Would Happy leave if he knew what Natsu was? But then, Happy was a cat, so maybe he wouldn’t care?)

“Natsu?” a new voice called. Lisanna approached them from the path. “Are you okay?”

Great, now everyone knew he was being a baby, and being stupid. At least it was just Happy and Lisanna—but they were also his closest friends, and the people he was the most scared of never seeing again.

The pressure was building, and it was too much.

“If I was a demon,” he blurted. “Would you hate me?”

Lisanna sat down next to him with a big plop. “You’re not a demon, silly.”

“But I am!” Every insecurity exploded out of him, and even though he knew why he shouldn’t, he didn’t know what to do _but_ to say it. “I forgot before, but I remember now, my brother turned me into a demon, but I don’t wanna be a bad demon and I don’t want to leave Fairy Tail.”

“H-hey slow down.” Lisanna was looking right at him with that concerned motherly look she got often. “What are you talking about?”

“I—” Natsu stopped himself. He _did_ promise Acno to keep all these secrets, but they were hard. But maybe… If he told Lisanna and Happy, and even they hated him, then he would leave. He just needed to tell someone, because he couldn’t figure it out by himself. “Pinky promise not to tell anyone?”

Lisanna nodded once resolutely. Happy thrust his paw in the air with an “Aye!” Lisanna wrapped her tiny pinky around his, and Happy touched his pinky to theirs, and the deal was made.

Natsu breathed a sigh of relief, but now he actually had to talk. He drew his knees up to his chest without thinking. “I forgot my memories of before I met Igneel until I met a dragon in the woods who helped me remember—uh, he doesn’t want people to know he’s a dragon though.”

“That doctor that brought you home last week?”

“Yeah, him. He, uh, knew I was missing memories and helped me get them back. Before…before Igneel took me in, I had a brother. Well, I think I still have him, but he’s… Uh, he’s…” What was he? Alive? Evil? Cursed? Natsu didn’t want to think about it. “H-he saved my life by turning me into a demon.”

Lisanna was quiet, but she wasn’t yelling. He was pretty sure this was a good sign, but it still made him nervous. “So… you’re like my sister. Mira-nee is part demon now, but she’s still my sister, and she’s still herself.”

That was a good point. But Mirajane was still mostly just human. “Is it still the same if I’m an etherious demon?”

“A…a what?”

What did the books call it? “A…demon of the book of Zeref?”

At this, Lisanna’s eyes widened, though Happy still looked confused. “Those legends?” she whispered. “How did your brother do that?”

“Um…” Natsu looked down instead of at her and Happy. “My brother… _is_ Zeref.”

“…huh?”

Natsu dared to look at his two best friends, just to be met with more confusion than anger. “Isn’t…Zeref dead?” Lisanna asked shyly. “And some scary mythical dark mage? Natsu, are you sure you’re remembering correctly? Maybe it’s something else…”

“No!” He might have forgotten before, but he wasn’t crazy now! “I’m from four hundred years ago but Igneel sent me through some portal my brother made and I ended up in this time instead. My brother used to be normal. I don’t know why he made other demons, just that he made me one to save my life. He… I don’t know why he did all those awful things later, or if people thought he did those things because he was cursed and it’s not his fault—!”

“Shh, Natsu, it’s okay.” Lisanna held his hand, even though in the midst of his outburst, it turned rocky and red again. “You’re still you, right? You’ve been like this the whole time?”

He nodded slowly.

“Then you’re the same ‘you’ you were when I met you,” she declared easily. “Just because you remember doesn’t mean anything changes. Just now you know that you can do this.” Lisanna held his demon hand up in the air.

“You’re…You’re not scared of me?”

“No, silly.” Lisanna moved closer. “I…I _used_ to be scared of demons, back when I was a little kid, but Mira-nee isn’t any different, and you’re not any different either. I still love both of you, and I know you won’t do anything bad.”

“Aye!” Happy agreed.

“I don’t…know much about Zeref,” she continued. “But you’re not him. You didn’t have anything to do with stuff he did, right?”

Natsu shook his head.

She smiled, and it was bright even if a little sad. “Mira-nee says and does some mean things sometimes, now, but I know she still loves me because she’s my sister. If your brother and your dad sent you to the future, I’m sure they were just looking out for you.”

Acno had said something similar. “Y-yeah, I guess so…”

“Oh, your hand is back to normal.”

Natsu looked down, and sure enough, the demon claws were gone.

“Can you control it?”

“Uh, not really. I’ve only done the hand by accident twice now. That’s all that I know I have, although…there might be more. Like with your sister.”

“Maybe Mira-nee can help you with it.”

The thought of more people knowing scared him in that moment. “N-no that’s okay. If…if I don’t go crazy, I really don’t want other people to know.”

Lisanna nodded. “A pinky promise is a solid agreement. Nobody will hear a peep from me if you don’t want it.”

“Aye!”

Natsu relaxed. This went better than he thought, but then again, he was stupid for not believing in his friends. “So…you don’t think I’m going to turn into a monster?”

“Of course not! You’re a Fairy Tail mage!”

It was easy to believe Lisanna when she spoke like that, full of bright smiles and confidence. That afternoon, Natsu felt free of his burden, that secret that spoke of eerie realities.

So why did it never leave?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Natsu made it a week, tops, before he spilled everything to Lisanna and Happy. But at least they were cool about it. (They were very simple 12-13 year olds.) After this, it doesn't take Natsu too long before he builds up the confidence to go look for Zeref, though Zeref is a hard man to find. It'll take him a while....


	10. Plight of a Guildmaster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makarov isn't sure what to make of Acnologia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's thinking back to how Makarov was at the beginning of the series that makes me appreciate the character development he did go through. The man tried, but he's also incredibly dense.
> 
> [ODAF 11 - 13]

Master Precht used to always talk about the principle of redemption. _“A guild isn’t about first chances, but about the second.”_ It was something Makarov took to heart when he became the third master of Fairy Tail.

Makarov did not care about one’s background, only their willingness to devote themselves to the guild and to their own future. Perhaps it meant that he took in his share of orphans and mages of the weaker variety, but children had the most future to look forward to. He might have a rambunctious guild on his hands, but it was one full of life that he hoped would make the founder and first master proud.

However, like in all things, Makarov learned there had to be a balance. Second chances came in plenty, but the third and the fourth could be thin ice. There were people out there that meant ill, who wanted nothing but selfish gain or destruction, and as a master, it was his duty to protect the guild members from danger within their walls. He would not grant a shot at redemption at the cost of damning those trusting him to protect them.

It was for this reason that he did not trust Acnologia.

At first, it was all in the scope of a guildmaster protecting his charges from preying outsiders. The mysterious doctor—whether in truth or cover alone—had already associated himself with Natsu and Laxus. Natsu’s case, with disappearing in the woods only to be returned the next morning, was suspicious but not unreasonable, but followed by Natsu’s variable mood, and the fact that Laxus recognized the man with some level of emotion that superseded any normal encounter, made the ordeal concerning.

Aside from mood, Natsu seemed fine after the encounter, and even then, the kid began to return back to normal after long. He said nothing to the contrary, and Natsu was an honest kid, if not overly so. Laxus, on the other hand, was tightlipped about the man, though he defended him if Makarov showed his hand in being suspicious.

Laxus was not the talkative type he had been as a child, so he was aloof on many things, but not the type to deny information altogether—unless it pertained to _that day_ , many years ago. What little Makarov had known, back when it had been fresh and Laxus managed to tell him some things between the trauma, was that there had been a man who called himself a doctor that helped him. Nothing more than that.

The pieces were sliding together quite ominously.

It was a shame. Laxus had been young—too young—at the time of the incident that resulted in his father’s death. It was not surprising that being so young, his grandson could not see the obvious implications of the stranger’s involvement in correlation with the death of Ivan. Makarov had hoped, now that he was older, that Laxus would put two and two together, and that he would see the merit in sharing that information with his grandfather, especially since it was quickly becoming guild business. Alas, the boy was stuck in his own ways, and unwilling to let Makarov in. It was no matter to Makarov—Laxus could do what he wished—but it was disappointing all the same.

For a while, the issue seemed moot anyway. As much as Ivan was a troublesome kid, his murder still brought Makarov sorrow, but he could not waste effort in investigation without neglecting his charges. Though Acnologia had briefly crossed paths with Fairy Tail again, he was gone just as quickly. It was enough to be vigilant should he ever return, but not enough to make a case against him.

Then he _did_ come back. Looking to _join_ Fairy Tail, no less. Makarov had no qualms about strangers looking to join the guild, but Acnologia’s brushing history with his kids made things more complicated.

More complicated, still, was when Makarov entered the guild hall that day, it wasn’t just the fact that the prospective guild member was the one elusive man that was becoming his bane—it was also the fact that two of the new kids were situated next to him at complete ease.

Wendy, Rogue, and Gajeel were a trio of newcomers that were either siblings, or merely behaved as them. They were good kids, if also the usual brand of chaotic, but they got along with the guild well, especially with Natsu and Lisanna. They weren’t the most sociable, but lonely kids either were or they weren’t. So, it was surprising that the two younger ones, who were more reserved, were so comfortable with the strange man. Rogue was even in his lap like it was a natural thing.

They must have met previously, which meant that Acnologia had been in Magnolia for a while without him noticing. It was disconcerting.

Still, Makarov was a fair man, and he needed to be smart about this. Unless something explicitly came up, he couldn’t act upon it, so it was best for him not to give himself away so early. He smiled and began the process as he normally would, but perhaps with more pointed questions. The man would never know, however.

“So, you’re looking to join Fairy Tail, eh? You’re a mage?” he asked. He couldn’t pick up any magic signature from the man, a fact that was suspicious in this setting. If there was something Makarov couldn’t detect, then he wanted to know.

“I am.” Acnologia raised his hand and a swirl of air floated around it innocuously. “Air magic, mostly.”

Air magic? It was rare, nowadays, because it lacked the flashiness that most youngsters sought in magic. Allegedly, there were more uses for it back in the day, but it was something lost to time, for the most part. Having Wendy now was rare enough, though the child called it something different, like sky magic. (The new children also aligned themselves, off-handedly, with the same so-called “dragon slayer magic” as Natsu claimed; Makarov still wasn’t sure if it was a legitimate yet esoteric magic, or merely a child’s fantasy of such.)

Makarov took the precepts of air magic and decided to ask further. “Air magic, eh? Oh, and you’re a…doctor? Know healing magic, do you?”

The last part was a joke, his attempt at misdirection. There were many magical remedies, but healing magic as a caster type was virtually unheard of. So, it was shocking when, with a completely straight face, Acnologia responded, “Yes.”

Was the man trying to pull something, or was he serious when he claimed to practice a lost art? Was that why both his magic and his countenance was so hard to place? Acnologia was by far a bizarre looking man, with tattoos up his arms and on his face, even in lieu of eyebrows, and slitted eyes that were perpetually sharp. He looked more like a vagabond warrior than a doctor.

Makarov had nearly forgotten that the two children were still there until Rogue spoke up, still nestled into Acnologia’s cloak. “He knows medicine, too,” he brought up shyly. “And it didn’t taste terrible.”

“Ah, does he now?” he responded to Rogue kindly. The insight was interesting. It confirmed that the man had prior experience with some of his guild members, and it also gave credence to the claim Makarov still found absurd, but now increasingly possible. “Did Acnologia help you out too, lad?”

The child nodded. “Yeah. When I was sick.”

Rogue had never been sick for as long as he was in the guild. Makarov had not considered that the three children had experience with the doctor beforehand until now, but it was making sense. Factors he hadn’t considered were now sliding together into full view.

“Ac-nii makes really good stew, too,” Wendy brought up. “Bone broth is also good medicine, but it’s yummy.”

Random though it was, what Wendy said confirmed his suspicions: Acnologia wasn’t just involved with these kids, but actively so. Makarov had guessed the three were siblings of sorts, mostly due to mannerisms, but Rogue and Gajeel looked largely similar. Wendy was the odd one out, but at calling Acnologia her brother, Makarov could believe the resemblance, though distantly.

Perhaps Makarov had been overly paranoid. Gajeel had mentioned, once, that it was not he who looked after the younger ones. Anyone who would care for children with this level of comfort was not typically the wild sort.

“Are you Wendy’s and Rogue’s caretaker I’ve been hearing about?” he asked, wanting confirmation.

“Yes.” Acnologia seemed to loosen at this turn of conversation, a small yet genuine smile easing into his otherwise harsh features. “Gajeel and Natsu too. And Happy and Charle for that matter.”

He thought he was finally on top of things, but there were more surprises to be had. “Natsu and Happy?” Makarov knew the two were intent on making their own house out somewhere. Based on the fact that they were still well, fed, and hygienic, Makarov had assumed they were successful. He had considered the possibility that they abandoned their project altogether.

Acnologia remained impassive at this, despite Natsu and Happy not previously being his charges. “They have a room upstairs, so it counts.”

“He snores as loud as Gajeel does,” Rogue supplied.

“It’s true,” the older man added easily to the child’s input.

It was all bizarre, and Makarov still wasn’t sure what the implications were, but it was becoming increasingly apparent that this strange man cared deeply for these children. That, he could respect.

So, Makarov laughed, feeling the tension begin to ebb away. “Sounds like them, alright.” There was one more test, however, just to be sure. “Anyway, Acnologia, was it? Why do you want to join Fairy Tail?”

Acnologia only paused a brief moment. It was a candid moment of thought, not previously considered, but it was quick enough to be an easy answer. “The kids like it here.”

He was a still a lurking question, but if what he said was true, then he was looking towards the future. “Welcome to Fairy Tail!”

Makarov hoped he wouldn’t regret it.

—o0o—

There were no major incidents upon allowing Acnologia to join the guild. In fact, the man was only at the guild to take a job or to speak to the kids. Or, more curiously, to inquire people about the location of a fifth—another dragon slayer.

Makarov was beginning to wonder if there truly was something about this designation of magic that he needed to know. It was something that was climbing to the top of his list of things to investigate, but Acnologia managed to once again top the list come December—for two reasons.

One, upon Gildarts’ return, he and Acnologia got into something of a brawl. This wouldn’t have been anything special, for Gildarts would fight anything, except for the fact that Acnologia, according to Enno, won. Which is to say, he took a hit from Gildarts like it was from an untrained child.

Two, Laxus disappeared for an entire week before the S-Class trials. It wasn’t abnormal, really, but he wasn’t at the dorms and he wasn’t on a job. He just vanished, until the day of the trial came. Makarov wouldn’t have been any wiser on the matter had it not been for passing comments made between Laxus and the dragon slayer children upon his return, indicating a familiarity with the training he apparently made beforehand. The conclusion was mildly perturbing: Laxus, his aloof grandchild, had spent the week with Acnologia. He might have even trained with him.

It was all baffling, and it urged Makarov to once and for all settle the matter of Ivan’s death. He doubted Laxus knew, else he might have never associated himself with the air mage. Makarov couldn’t help but to fear, now, that if Laxus _were_ to find out, he would never forgive him for letting Acnologia into the guild. Makarov knew his relationship with Laxus wasn’t the best, but he didn’t wish for any animosity between them; he had merely never wanted to replace Ivan as his father. No child needed that confusion in their life. A motherless child himself, Makarov knew that much well.

Makarov did not want to be overly mistrustful of any member of his guild, but matters needed to be sorted, and there was only one person he knew to start with.

As usual, Porlyusica was neither thrilled nor distraught to see him. “Don’t just stand there,” she chastised. “Come in.”

He had known Porlyusica for many years, so he knew how to address her: quickly, and to the point. It didn’t make mustering the topic of conversation any easier, however. Makarov lamented, now, how he had shunned this subject entirely when it had first happened, but he had thought it would be better to not dwell on matters he couldn’t control.

Porlyusica had already poured tea by the time he found his voice. “Ivan’s death… You found Laxus that night, didn’t you?”

She eyed him warily, likely aware of how much he had hoped to avoid this conversation. “What is this about?” she asked, ever the shrewd one.

He sighed. He was much too old for this. “This mysterious doctor, by the name of Acnologia, came to Fairy Tail recently. I have reason to believe he was involved in Ivan’s death—his murderer, even.”

It tasted so foul to say it aloud. Ivan might have been a troublesome kid, but he didn’t deserve that.

Porlyusica gave him a long, hard look—something she excelled at. She set her tea down with a heavy sigh. “You only just now figured that out? I was beginning to think you’ve successfully ignored this matter.”

Makarov knew he could find answers with Porlyusica, but he didn’t think they would be so blatant. “You mean he _was_ killed?”

There was a moment of silence. Porlyusica was not the secretive type—more so the type to avoid a subject altogether—but she now the air of a woman with a secret she was contemplating. She finally looked back to him with another characteristic sigh.

“Acnologia did kill Ivan,” she confirmed, as if it was only an unpleasant matter and not a severe one. “It was a chance encounter, and dare I say, for the best.”

For the best? Before Makarov could contemplate her arid words, she continued.

“Ivan was never a good man. You know this, Makarov. But he finally went and hurt his boy. For better or for worse, it was Acnologia who happened to notice. Whatever scene he encountered, it was bad enough for that brute to involve himself. Ivan never stood a chance, if he angered Acnologia to that extent, I’m afraid.”

“What are you saying? How do you know this?” There were many allegations being thrown about, all with certainty. He couldn’t trust any of this without merit, even from Porlyusica.

“He told me. Makarov, it was Acnologia who brought Laxus to me. It was also he who buried Ivan, if you ever bothered to go see it—and the monstrosity Ivan had created.”

He… _had_ gone to see the grave. He had assumed—mistakenly, apparently—that Porlyusica was responsible. Makarov couldn’t bring himself to look through Ivan’s belongings, however. The day it happened, Porlyusica had been abrupt on the matter, but it was shocking to all involved. However, there had been an accusatory tone the woman held for the deceased son that Makarov had ignored— _wanted_ to ignore—and it was only all the more obvious now.

There was a part of him that knew just _how_ troublesome Ivan was. How close to the edge. Maybe…beyond the edge. He didn’t want to believe it until he had to. Death had merely given Makarov the excuse to ignore it forever.

Though perhaps it didn’t.

Still, the matter of Acnologia was surprisingly straightforward. Though the man had been nothing but calm and efficient since joining the guild, knowing he brought in his son’s killer left a cold pit in his stomach.

Would this be the straw that broke his relationship with Laxus?

“Does…Laxus know any of this?”

Porlyusica snorted. “Of course he does. Unlike _you_ , he asks questions. He knew this since he was a boy, as well as every deed he dared to observe in that wretched ruin of Ivan’s.”

Laxus trusted Acnologia despite knowing this? Makarov wasn’t sure if that spoke more to Acnologia’s trustworthiness, or to the extent of Ivan’s crimes.

It also begged the question of what exactly happened to Laxus that night. It had been the effects of shock that were most apparent, and that had been what Makarov assumed had been the worst of it. The shock had awakened his magic—in a rather ugly manner, unfortunately—resulting in Laxus taking damage from his own lightning.

Or had there been something else?

“I don’t suppose you’ll tell me what happened to Laxus, will you?”

“Patient-doctor confidentiality, Mack.”

Why did he bother asking? “Of course. Fine, answer me this, then—is Acnologia dangerous?”

Makarov wasn’t one to renege on his word. Acnologia was a member of Fairy Tail, and that was that. However, if he had cause for concern, he would continue to watch Acnologia closer than most—and he would do what had to be done, should it come to that.

Porlyusica only laughed. “Dangerous? Of course he’s _dangerous._ ” She looked at him with half an amused smile, the other half of her expression austere as ever. “Makarov, I tell you this as Fairy Tail’s guildmaster: I’ve known Acnologia for decades. He’s always been _dangerous_ , but he hasn’t been a threat in a long time. The only thing he is a threat to, is whoever or whatever hurts those kids of his. I’ve seen only a fraction myself of the length he is going to for them, but I know that he is living for them now.

“So, no, Makarov—so long as you treat those kids with any shred of decency, he’s not a threat to you or the guild. In fact, you’ve might have gained a more powerful ally in him than you realize.”

—o0o—

“Yo, Master!”

Makarov had sensed Gildarts’ rather massive presence long before he reached his office, but he chose until the man had entered to raise his head in greeting. “Gildarts. What brings you here? Headed off again already?”

“Nah, not quite yet. I wanna’ handle a few more stuff locally before I pack up again. I was just wonderin’ who you were considering for the S-Class trials.”

Right. It was only October now, but the trials were coming up, and Gildarts could likely be gone by then. The trials were a private matter, but current S-Class mages—especially one of Gildarts’ seniority and caliber—were privy to the preparations, if not directly involved. “It’s still early to tell,” Makarov began, “but I think Cana is still a promising and versatile mage. Erza and Mirajane are moving up quickly as well. Mest has potential, too, I believe.”

Gildarts raised a brow at him. “What? Not Acno?”

He knew about Gildarts’ first drunken encounter with Acnologia nearly a year ago, but nothing past that. Not anything to warrant this interest and recommendation. “What about him?”

“Not gonna lie, Master, but Acno is probably more powerful than me. We’ve sparred a few times, in between my jobs, and he gives me a run for my money.”

Acnologia could handle Gildarts in a full spar? Porlyusica’s words came back to him, and the picture was intriguing to say the least.

Still. “Power is hardly the only requirement for S-Class. You know this well, Gildarts.”

Gildarts shrugged. “Yeah, yeah, I know. He might be a grouch, but he looks out for guildmates—especially the kids.”

“Well, the ones he personally cares for are a given, I hope.”

“All of ‘em, really. I heard from Macao that he tossed those Twilight Ogre grunts that were messin’ with Levy, Jet, and Drole, and he scared them off real good. That was just the other day.”

Makarov frowned. He hadn’t heard about this. If another guild was pushing their luck, he should have been notified. He wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or offended that Acnologia had been brought in instead.

Gildarts did raise a point, however. He had been willing to let Acnologia be, but Makarov had not associated himself overly with the man. However, even from passing glances, it was clear he was a high-class mage, and he had a protective streak, despite his “grouchiness,” as Gildarts would say.

Perhaps, Makarov was being too stingy with second chances.

—o0o—

The S-Class trials of X779 came, and as always, Makarov enjoyed watching the candidates struggle, for struggling was the true mark of a challenge.

He released them into the mountains above Magnolia late in the evening, well aware that they would have to camp in the harsh conditions for a night before moving towards the harbor. Makarov himself slipped away on the scant mountain path he had scouted beforehand, taking but a quick nap on the train to the harbor, being prepared to beat the candidates to Tenrou so he could properly welcome them there.

All of the candidates were monitored, of course, through lacrimas he had connected to the partners’ wristbands. This may be a challenge, but he had the means to step in should anything get dicey, and Gildarts had agreed to hover around the mountains in case of emergency as well.

It would be a difficult week for them, but that was the entire point of the trial.

Yet, Makarov woke up from his short night of sleep only to blink in shock at the location of Acnologia and Gajeel.

Acnologia had already made it Tenrou.

_Before him._

Either some level of trickery had happened, or Makarov had been underestimating Acnologia more than he previously thought.

—o0o—

Acnologia passed the trial. He completed all the objectives, and he even did so with flourish. Yes, he had faced a good deal of threats—some naturally and some at Makarov’s own intervention—but he handled them with efficiency, and his partner never received even a scratch.

Against all of Makarov’s initial concern, he would make a fine S-Class mage.

“Hey, Master?”

The ceremony atop the Tenrou tree had already been completed, but Acnologia approached Makarov once more.

“Yes?”

“There’s something you should know. Just…going forward.”

“Oh?” There were many enigmas about the man, but the largest issue between the two of them had already been set out on the table, albeit indirectly. Both knew of the others’ knowledge, however.

“I’m a dragon.”

Makarov stared at the man, looking all parts sheepish yet serious at the statement. “Come again?”

“I’m not human. Or, not _entirely_ human—I once was. I’m a dragon. For instance, I found the island so fast because I flew out from the mountains.”

“So, you know transformation magic?” Still, all night was a long time to hold a transformation, especially one that granted flight.

“No. I _am_ a dragon. Have been, for four hundred years.”

“F-four hundred…?”

Never mind that he claimed to be a dragon—a creature that was only in fairy tales (how fitting)—but the man with a body in its prime was older than he was?

Acnologia had the audacity to merely shrug at that bombshell. “It’s odd, but I figured you should know. The kids know, too. Or, my kids—the dragon slayers—at least. And Laxus, Lisanna, and Levy, but I’d rather not grow that number unless I have to. It’s awkward.”

For a while, Makarov was dumbfounded to silence. The claim was absurd, but so much so that it had to be true. It made sense, strangely enough. His power, his speed—the fact that there have been several instances when he had allegedly slept for days on end.

At the end, he could only laugh.

Fairy Tail surely was a home to the strangest, most wonderful creatures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And in the end, the most shocking thing is that Makarov is no longer the oldest coot around, but he _still_ has the worst arthritis. 
> 
> I'm thinking of making another oneshot in tandem with this one that is Makarov actually figuring out: a) what a dragon slayer is, and b) Laxus is a dragon slayer. Laxus is still hoping to keep that one under wraps, though, but the boy gotta realize it starts to become physically obvious after a while....


	11. Rising Thunder: Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laxus encounters Bickslow for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, that does say part one. This shall be a three or a four part little mini series that I write maybe not necessarily back to back or in any form of coherency, detailing how our favorite little Laxus-squad comes to be in this universe. Of course, we don't know everything in canon, so there's not much to concrete deviate from, though I know I have deviated simply by the fact that young HTRYDS Laxus doesn't think making a friend will kill him. 
> 
> Before we start, I'm just going to say that how I write and headcannon Bickslow's backstory is heavily influenced by the [One Word to Change the World](https://archiveofourown.org/series/440644) series by [AgentMalkere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentMalkere/pseuds/AgentMalkere). 
> 
> If you've read that series, you'll know it when you see it. If you haven't, then congrats! You got something to read while you're waiting for me to update! (Seriously though, it's a great series of little oneshots, would recommend.)

_October 20, X775_

Now that Laxus was fourteen, he was accustomed to going on jobs by himself. It was nice to have the time alone, none of the older guild members hovering, or worse, getting in his way. They meant well, sure, but Laxus was quickly learning how to handle lightning magic, and he was well aware of how wide-spread and dangerous it could be. It was easier for him if there was no one around that he had to look out for, no matter how helpful the scrub thought they were being.

It was one of the reasons Laxus preferred fighting jobs, like monster hunting. There were always plenty of those out there, but sometimes, Laxus had to branch out if he wanted to be able to leave on a job to _somewhere._

The job posting was weird, but they often were. _Cecilia Town Haunted. Mage wanted to remove evil spirits._ It was likely something else entirely, because just because magic was common, it didn’t mean that the majority of people understood it. It was a newer commission, but relatively low in pay, so Laxus doubted the issue was as serious as they made it sound. They were probably extra spooked because of the upcoming Pumpkin Dance Festival and jumped at the first weird magic in the area.

Whatever the reason, Laxus didn’t care. His only purpose here was to complete the job, no matter what caused the problem in the first place. It was just unfortunate that, having no real information on where to start, he had to talk to the townspeople anyway.

“It was terrible,” the woman repeated for what must have been the fourth time. She was the master of the textile guild the town was built around, and the one who posted the job. “The—the _looms_ they… Oh my, it’s just too terrible to relive.”

Laxus just sighed as the woman had to compose herself yet again. At this rate, he was either going to have to grab an inn and start in the morning or start once the sun was already down. Which, depending on _what the hell was happening_ , either might be a viable option.

“Sorry, dear,” she continued, fanning her face with her hand. “I’m better now.” She took a deep breath. “It was late the other night. I was coming in to close things up, and the loom— why, no one was there. Th-the loom was just… moving all on its own! In these…slow, choppy movements, and there was fabric floating through it. And—and a knife! A knife came floating towards me, so I— I did the sensible thing and ran. Locked myself in the closet.” Another deep, stuttering breath. “Th-the worst part, when I finally mustered the nerve to return… Oh! It’s just so terrible!”

“What happened?” he prompted tiredly.

“The loom was destroyed! Oh, my great grand-mama’s loom, reduced to such a poor state. The room was in shambles too. I’m—I’m afraid those dreaded demon spirits have finally done it, and they’ve become set on ruining this town for the Pumpkin Dance Festival!”

Great. He was right: senseless superstition. Even _he_ knew all that stuff was just legend and folktale. “How do you know it wasn’t telekinetic magic?”

“But…what about the voices then?”

“The voices?” She rambled a lot, but Laxus didn’t remember that.

“Oh, dear, it was terrible! While those objects were possessed, they were _laughing_ this— this _deranged_ little giggle, and oh! I can’t think about it anymore! Please, _please_ help us expel these demons!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

—o0o—

Ultimately, he decided to start right away. The guildmaster already arranged for a place for him to sleep, but the whole ordeal left Laxus with the need to fight something to release his pent-up energy.

This was probably just some punk with cheap magic trying to scare the town into giving them money, or something equally as dumb as that. Whatever. Laxus was better than most mages, even if solely for the fact that lightning magic was really useful in a fight, so he wasn’t worried. If—on the very small chance—this job got more difficult to handle, he could either come back with someone else, or simply leave the job to another mage entirely. Not that that had to happen, because Laxus was building a good track record for himself.

He busied himself with poking around the town now that most of the people were settled indoors for the night. It was usually nighttime that shenanigans happened anyway, because these kinds of people were cowardly by default, being the types to avoid joining guilds and doing legal, honest work. For what? Money? Power? It didn’t make sense to Laxus, because he could get those same things _without_ excommunicating himself from society. (He still didn’t understand why his dad did all those…things… just to end up worse than how he started.)

Anyway. He had a job to do.

Hours passed, but nothing happened. He was considering giving up for the night when he heard it—giggling.

It was faint and distant, and Laxus was starting to think he imagined it when there was nothing nearby, but he finally tracked it down to the _other_ side of the town.

Laxus blamed his tiredness, and the fact that the woman got it in his head, but the laughing _was_ creepy. It echoed off the surfaces in a hollow way, seemingly floating but without any substance. It was hard to place where it was coming from, because he swore, it moved as he did. Finally, when Laxus swerved into an alley, he saw a glimpse of a floating object.

“Hide! Hide!” said the same voice that giggled. No— _voices._ They were close to each other but coming from multiple sources.

It could have been indicative of it really being spirits, or, someone was definitely screwing with them. Laxus chose not to think too hard of the consequences of either possibility so he dove blindly for the source of one of the voices from around the corner.

He grabbed onto a wiggling broken shovel.

“Uh oh!” the shovel squeaked.

What the actual hell?

As Laxus stared at the squirming inanimate object, mind blank, something thin and blunt rammed into the back of his head. Only because it caught him off guard, it startled him enough to lose his grip on the shovel. Both of the broken halves of the shovel flew away, darting around the corner and into the sky.

“Damnit!” Laxus scrambled to catch up. He wasn’t about to be bested by some stupid _shovel._ It didn’t matter whether it was a cowardly mage or real demons at this point, Laxus was invested, and he _would_ beat that thing.

The pieces’ ability of flight made things difficult, but Laxus was agile. He jumped up the walls and vaulted over the roofs, using electricity to boost his movements when he needed the boost. He almost lost them a few times, but even in the dark, he could see their movement against the sky.

However, just when one piece was almost in his reach again, a bucket slammed over his face. “Gah!” The sudden intrusion made him lose his footing, but Laxus was launching the offending object off with a burst of magic a second later—just for a _fucking chair_ to come flying out of no where and trip him.

Laxus pushed himself off the ground, intent on kicking the chair, and then the shovel came diving back. He dodged the metal end and nearly crashed into the chair again. It didn’t help that the whole time, the objects were giggling again.

“Screw it!” Laxus summoned lightning around him and knocked the objects back, splintering the wood and causing half of the shovel and the chair to fall.

Then the knife came.

He had thought the woman was exaggerating, but _holy damn that was a big knife._ It was metal and unhindered by his electricity, too, so Laxus had no choice but to run for it and get better cover. The knife took two stabs at him—literally—before it lost interest and flew off with the other items.

It was tempting to shoot them out of the sky, eradicating the rest of the possessed or magic-controlled objects altogether. However, now that he was focused on tracking them and not catching them, he noticed that they were leaving the premise of the town. Being a mage was part magic power, part heart, and part plain intelligence—that was one thing Laxus learned himself through simple observation. The first two aspects were something Fairy Tail excelled at; the last? Not so much. But Laxus wouldn’t he held down by any standard, even of his own people.

So Laxus switched gears and followed the floating objects, keeping just enough distance to ensure that he wouldn’t lose them. Hopefully, the little bastards would lead him to either the main bastard controlling them, or to their goal. Maybe both.

The lady had been convinced it was evil spirits or demons, out to destroy whatever legacy they had in their town’s Pumpkin Dance Festival, or whatever. It was mostly just superstition, anyway. However, it was odd enough that Laxus didn’t discount it. He knew demons were _real_ , though they were usually much more of a problem than floating pieces of junk that liked to mock people. Still, Laxus kept the guildmaster’s theory in mind as he followed the remaining objects to the fields.

They didn’t enter them, though. They approached the ripe pumpkins and then veered left, past the edge of the farmland. For a moment, he was afraid the little bastards knew he was tailing him and were trying to lose him in the woods, but before they got deep, they approached some shed.

It looked like it could have been an old storage bin, abandoned due to age and lack of size. It was already rotting, and it couldn’t have been big enough to hold more than one person.

“Help!” one of the voices squeaked.

“Sorry,” whispered another.

The third grunted, sounding displeased even in its ethereal voice. He bet it was the knife.

A new voice joined them. “What happened? Oh, poor babies. Here, uh, have the blanket, and you…can have the doorknob? Sorry, I know it’s not cool.”

It was a real voice, and not a strange disembodied one. A guy, but he couldn’t have been any older than Laxus, and it sounded shaky and weak.

There was something else going on here. Laxus approached with caution, unsure if it was going to be a fight or something different. In hindsight, maybe he should have been more cautious—or gentler—because he scared the occupant of the old shed more than the other way around.

All Laxus saw was a flash of green eyes shining in the dark, and then nothing.

—o0o—

Laxus was standing next to the field again.

He had no idea how he got here, or how much time had passed. There was the faint feeling that for a moment, his limbs weren’t his own.

Had…had he been _possessed?_ The hunch was strong, and he wished it wasn’t. The thought alone made Laxus uncomfortable, and the lingering fuzziness of his body and mind made him nauseous. However, if his body had been hijacked, then whoever did it—the owner of the green eyes, most likely—was either terrible at it, or he hadn’t meant to hurt him, because he was only a few dozen feet away and he was intact. It was still the same shade of dark outside, so he doubted he was out long.

Laxus turned back towards the site of the incident and ran. This time, he was ready for anything, wary of repeating whatever the hell just happened, but unwilling to let the culprit get away.

He got a head start, but Laxus was faster. The other boy wasn’t quiet as he stumbled through the woods, so finding him wasn’t a problem either. It also wouldn’t have been a problem to strike him down from behind, stopping him in his tracks while also making the first move. As it was, however, Laxus had good night vision. Whether it was just due to some natural prowess, or the way his eyes sometimes shifted and changed, was moot—all that mattered then was that Laxus could make out the kid’s shape, and the way he stumbled, floating objects in tow.

“Wait!” he called instead. “I won’t hurt you!”

Laxus’ job was to handle the mystery of the supposedly haunted town, and while his specialty was fighting, even Laxus knew that it wasn’t the answer to every problem and every job. He may not be good at the alternative, but Laxus was willing to try.

The boy paused, turning halfway to him but freezing before he turned around completely. He had close-shaven dark hair and was as tall as Laxus was yet half the size, easily noticeable by the fact that he was only wearing some oversized shirt or nightgown. There was enough moonlight to make out marks on his legs and arms, though it was hard to tell if they were scrapes or streaks of dirt. Maybe both.

The shovel head and knife were there, pointed at Laxus with what could only be described as ready to strike. A rusty doorknob, a badly knit blanket, and a tin can floated around the boy protectively.

Laxus took a tentative step forward, stopping again when the boy tensed, and the knife hovered closer. Now that he has gotten this far, he wasn’t sure what to do, so he stumbled through an awkward apology. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Sorry.”

He _had_ meant to apprehend whoever was responsible for the so-called haunting, but that wasn’t actually part of his job. Besides, that lady had been an idiot, and it was possible that the “haunting” was benign. The creepy objects were bastards and rude, but they didn’t actually hurt anybody. (The knife tried though.)

Laxus _could_ leave. He could say his job was done, collect the reward, and let the boy run to wherever. But he was rooted to the spot on the forest floor, unwilling to leave. He didn’t know how, and he didn’t know why, but this random boy obviously needed help.

“What do you want from me then?” the boy asked. His voice was even but hesitant.

He blurted out the main thing on the forefront of his mind. “You look like shit.”

The boy laughed. It almost sounded deranged, but it also could have been a genuine attempt thwarted by exhaustion. “Yeah no kidding. I feel like it too, thanks for asking.” He tilted his head, but still didn’t look at Laxus. “Any other observations, Captain Obvious, or should I head off now before the pitchforks come out?”

“Pitchforks?” Laxus repeated, before shaking his head. “What? No.” Ugh! What the hell was he supposed to do? This wasn’t something he was used to, and every time his gramps took someone in, it was generally at the guild and with very little words—and they weren’t half-starved.

Whatever. He might as well get to the point, because Laxus didn’t want the boy to die. What kind of mage would he be if he didn’t try and help? “If you’re not planning on stabbing me or anyone else, you could come back to the town instead of freezing your ass off out here. Your floating blanket won’t do any good if it starts raining.”

“Raining?” the objects echoed, though the knife echoed “stabbing” instead.

“Shush, you,” the boy said with a wave of his hand. “And you, are you nuts? They’ll definitely try to stab _me_ if I go into town. I’m surprised you’re not tryna’ zap me right now, Lightning Fingers.”

“And why would I do that?”

The boy was incredulous enough to almost turn to Laxus fully, but another flash of green and he was snapping his head back in another direction. “Um, because I’m a freak of nature? I took over your body? I stole stuff? Oh, the souls in the objects? Those freak people out. I can keep going.”

Frankly, Laxus was unimpressed. “That’s it? You just sound like a normal homeless kid to me.”

“Uh, what part of ‘I can control human souls’ didn’t you get?” the boy pressed. “Honestly, normal people get mad over that one.”

“You didn’t hurt me though. And no one in the town got hurt either, even if your knife scared the shit out of the boss-lady.”

“Poppo,” the boy chastised. “We talked about this.”

The knife sagged in the air.

Huh. He had them named…

“But dude, seriously, are you nuts? Or are you messing with me? You got, like, a really bright soul so I doubt you’re trying to murder me, but still. Probably crazy.”

“You’re one to talk,” Laxus couldn’t help but to reply. His soul was really bright? What the hell?

The boy only laughed. “We’re not talking about me.”

“Yeah, we are. Now, are you going to come with me or not? I have a room at the inn, and food that isn’t raw pumpkins, unless you’re happy out here. I’m not going to turn you in, or anything.”

The boy continued to stare at him from the corner of his eye, body stiff and unsure. “You—” he started. “Why?”

It was a good question, one Laxus wasn’t sure he knew the answer to. The world was a suck-ish place, and people tended to look out for themselves. It was easier to sometimes, lest you be disappointed when others can’t or won’t help you. However, people also did shitty things, especially to each other—even to the people they were supposed to care for. It was a lesson Laxus learned nearly a year ago when he looked through his dad’s stuff, and a lesson he kept learning the more he observed the world. Even his guild, who tried to help others in their own way, while doing their own jobs, sometimes caused more problems than they solved them.

Personally, Laxus was grateful for the people who could help random strangers without rhyme or reason, and without any need for recompense. It proved that they were strong enough to carry themselves _and_ others. Besides, Laxus always knew that he wouldn’t even be alive if it weren’t for that doctor-guy who decided to intervene for a kid he didn’t know. If he hadn’t died that night, then his dad might have come for him later.

He shrugged. Laxus didn’t have any complicated reason: he just wanted to be the best person he could.

“Why not?”

—o0o—

Laxus watched the boy eat the apple he had packed for himself with grateful fervor. He had his jerky too, because he needed it, though either it was too hard on his stomach or it tasted weird, because it had been with more resignation than excitement. He still thanked him for it, though.

The majority of the town was asleep and tucked away when they returned, so there was no trouble, even with a half-dressed kid and his floating minions. Still, it was a shame it was so late, because Laxus would have gotten more food otherwise.

“What’s your name, anyway?” the boy asked, glancing at him for a second before looking down at the apple core.

Oh shit, that was something people opened with, wasn’t it? Oh well. “Laxus,” he replied. “Laxus Dreyar.”

“I’m Bickslow,” he responded with a grin. “And that’s Pappa, Peppe, Pippi, Puppu, and Poppo,” he continued, pointing to the blanket, the can, the shovel head, the doorknob, and the knife in sequence. “At least those are the names I gave them, but they like them, so it counts.”

Bickslow was perched on the side of one of the chairs like it was the normal way to sit in one. The balance was impressive, though it might have helped that he was barefoot—a fact Laxus only noticed later. Actually, how he stood on those things with how beat up they looked was the real question. Bickslow as a whole looked awful. He was right about the cuts and bruises and stains, but there were scars all over too, ranging from cuts and tears to what Laxus could only guess were burns. Bad ones, too. Laxus tried not to focus on it, but the fact that all he had was a tattered light blue oversized shirt made it too easy.

Laxus was figuring out how to voice his concern over the matter when Bickslow continued. “So you use magic, right? But you look all normal—well, aside from the bright soul, but is that a side effect? I’ll get back to you on that one. Where’re from?”

There was something else underlying the question, something beyond curiosity, that Laxus couldn’t quite place. It was like he was surprised by Laxus’ very existence. “I’m a Fairy Tail mage, from Magnolia. It’s a mage guild.”

“Riiight, those _do_ exist,” he responded, like they were some esoteric thing. “With normal magic and stuff.”

“Nobody in Fairy Tail is _normal_ ,” Laxus scoffed. “But we’re legal, if that’s what you mean.”

Bickslow nodded, but said nothing, which Laxus could already tell by the hour max he’s spent with the kid that it was out of character. Laxus could already tell that he could use magic of some sort, based on the weird stint that happened on their first encounter, but he wasn’t bringing it up, so Laxus wouldn’t either.

“There’s a shower in here too,” he said instead, unsure what else to do to be helpful. “They might be too big, but you can have my change of clothes. I can wear this. Unless you have some stash somewhere else.”

“If I had anything but this, I wouldn’t be wearing it,” Bickslow quipped back, pinching the offending article with a frown. “Seriously, they had no style.”

The implications of his comment felt uncomfortable, but it wasn’t something Laxus could easily place. He watched as Bickslow slipped into the bathroom after dismounting the chair in a back somersault, his floating objects following him in—except for the blanket, which would fair well inside. The blanket—Pappa, he believed Bickslow called it—draped itself miserably across the bed.

Laxus couldn’t help but feel out of his depth here, but that was a feeling he was used to, and muscling past it always worked before. He’d cross each bridge when he got there. For now, he would get the strange and talkative in a stable place. Then, he would make sure there were no immediate threats; the suggestion that people have hunted Bickslow before left a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

The circumstance surrounding him was unsettling by itself. He was obviously running from something, though Laxus had no clue as to how long nor why. Bickslow didn’t seem like a bad guy, though. Sure, those floating things of his messed with him, but they didn’t hurt him, and neither did Bickslow when given the chance. And, disregarding magic, Bickslow looked like he would lose to anyone in a fist fight, considering his condition.

He didn’t make it far into his musings before Bickslow was inching out of the bathroom, objects in tow. Laxus was right in assuming that his clothes would be too baggy for him, despite them being the same height. Which was worrying, because Laxus really wasn’t that big.

Now that his hair was clean, Laxus could see that his hair was black, but with blue tufts starting to grow in uneven places. He could also see the scars on his arms more clearly.

The blanket tackled him as soon as he emerged, to which he laughed and accepted the head rub.

“It moped the entire time you were in there,” Laxus commented lightly. “They all seem pretty attached to you.”

“Yeah,” Bickslow laughed, though perhaps a little nervously this time. “The babies do like to hang around. They can’t go too far anyway though, otherwise my magic won’t reach. I don’t know what’ll happen if that happens, but I don’t want to know.”

So, it was his magic, then. They had a lot of personality to be a simply telekinetic thing though, and they were always active. “What are they, anyway?”

It he wasn’t nervous before, he definitely was now. “Um, well, they’re kinda’… souls? But they’re totally cool with me doing this. Isn’t that right, babies?”

“Right!” they echoed.

Huh. So that’s why they talked. Laxus knew that Chico chick did something with ghosts, and she could talk to them, but he never saw if anyone could or not. Maybe it was the way Bickslow’s magic worked. He could see why it would freak out people, but it wasn’t like dealing with ghosts was anything new—just rare.

Wait, then what was that thing he did to Laxus, then? “Is it a ghost thing, or something else? I think you totally got me earlier, but I’m not dead.”

“O-oh, right. Sorry about that. You startled me and I accidentally hijacked you by instinct, but it was useful to get away, so I kept it. The babies are kind of like ghosts, I think, but I can kinda control anything with eye contact. Human, th-that is. Well, obviously I don’t need eye contact for the people that are just souls, and they lose that stuff anyway, and I just move them from thing to thing, and I can get them to follow me if they’re being difficult, like Poppo usually is, but they normally do that stuff natural even without me saying anything, though they might have impressed on me more than I know, so uh, I don’t know.”

Bickslow’s rambling wasn’t precisely helpful, but it did ring familiar enough. “Is it a type of seith magic?” he asked.

Laxus didn’t know much about it, but he knew Nab used seith magic, though he only saw it with animals.

“Yeah, that’s what they called it,” he replied with a note of surprise. Another mention of the elusive ‘they’ had Laxus once again wondering if there was someone out there to beat up, but he was distracted by another revelation.

“Is that why you won’t look at me? Because you accidentally took control of my body?”

Bickslow’s shoulders slumped. “Yeah. I do that through my eyes, but they’re kinda tricky to control. Being able to see all the time is weird enough, but I don’t know how to make eye contact and _not_ mind-zap people. Sorry.”

“Hey, I’m no stranger to not being able to control my magic all the time. I get that.” It was especially bad right after the lacrima got put in his body, and lightning would discharge from him randomly. The main thing now was the weird side effects it would play on his eyes and teeth and other body parts when he wasn’t paying attention.

“Really?” Bickslow asked, sneaking a look upward at him.

“Yeah. I got a bunch of magic shoved in me at once when I was a kid, so I was oozing lightning everywhere. I fried a lot of utility lacrimas and lights, and even shocked people.” It was the fast version of what happened, but still more than he usually told people—which was to say, Laxus brought up what happened as little as humanly possible. Most people didn’t get it when he had tried anyway, his gramps included. But Bickslow looked like he had it rougher than he did, and after being privy to this kid in his low state, it was only fair that he should have a glimpse at Laxus’.

Bickslow winced sympathetically. “That sucks.”

Laxus nodded.

They sat in a beat of silence. Laxus made himself comfortable in the chair, leaving the bed to Bickslow. Laxus usually slept somewhat curled up anyway, at least once he hit his growth spurt. He would be fine. However, there was enough on his mind that made it difficult to sleep at all.

There was one, or maybe two, more things he wanted to settle with Bickslow first.

“Is anyone after you?” he asked, knowing the topic serious.

Bickslow had to think about it. “I’m not sure, but I don’t think so. Not now, anyway.”

It didn’t sound great, but it was doable. “Got a place to go?”

“Ha, no.” That answer was immediate.

“Fairy Tail accepts all mages, you know. Even kids. There’s dorms there that a lot of us stay in.”

“I thought we established that my magic was weird, though. What would a guild want with me?”

Laxus shrugged. “Magic shouldn’t be an issue. If it was, I’d fist-fight the guildmaster myself. It only matters if you wanna be in there and do good jobs.”

“Huh.”

It was left at that, that night. Come morning, after Laxus had to spend an irritating amount of time convincing the guildmaster lady that the town wasn’t haunted anymore, he left Cecilia Town.

Bickslow kept tagging along, unsure of where to go in the meantime. So, he ended up going all the way to Fairy Tail.

He was a member before that day ended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RIP Bickslow, who must suffer from the fact that I love him, but I put characters I love through so much pain and nonsense. However, I like to think I wasn't as mean as what AgentMalkere did in their version of the Bickslow-Laxus meeting... Though, um, Ultear in this universe still blows up the Bureau and everything in it indiscriminately, so there's that. Heheh...
> 
> Laxus and Bickslow would really never talk about it. Maybe once, they'll have a Bro moment when they share the woes of their past, and then, nope, there's nothing to talk about. Nothing at all. 
> 
> Guys, I think I have a weakness for tall blue-haired Fairy Tail members that get like 30 seconds of screentime/voice lines. They appear, say two things, and I immediately become enthralled.


End file.
